


Anatexis

by stormtongue



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (Movies)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, BDSM, Comeplay, Edgeplay, Emotional Manipulation, Feelings Realization, Genderfluid Loki (Marvel), Impact Play, M/M, NSFW Art, Orgasm Denial, Perceived non-con, Rough Sex, Sibling Incest, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-29
Updated: 2018-10-29
Packaged: 2019-08-09 17:14:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 33,733
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16454054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stormtongue/pseuds/stormtongue
Summary: “God of ruin no longer. An interesting concept.”Loki’s failed takeover of Midgard cannot go unpunished. But it won’t be so easy as lifelong imprisonment - not when Thor sees opportunity for both of them behind his brother’s mask of villainy.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [Thorki Big Bang 2018!](https://thorkibigbang.tumblr.com)
> 
> Thanks a million to the mods for putting this all together, to my wonderful beta, [Mariell](https://cuquas.tumblr.com), for putting up with my incoherent ramblings and some frankly terrible sections of the first draft, and to [@incrediblygoodloking](https://incrediblygoodloking.tumblr.com) for their absolutely gorgeous art! 
> 
> I'm on tumblr as [@thorjorts](https://thorjorts.tumblr.com), come say hi!

Shamed. Beaten. But ever-full of contempt. He hadn’t lost all that made him Loki in his defeat on Midgard.

 

The too-bright sunshine of the park in decimated New York shone annoyingly in Loki’s eyes. Thor’s grip on his arm was going to leave him bruised. The cuffs around his wrists were rubbing his skin red and raw. He might have permanent jaw damage from clenching it so hard under the dull silver muzzle. 

 

Loki didn’t really mind, though. They were leaving this pathetic realm, and that was all that mattered.

 

Erik Selvig cautiously pulled the pulsing blue Tesseract out of a case and placed it into a new energy-isolating containment chamber, one that would ensure its safety on the journey away from here. Loki was rather proud of Thor for convincing the human fools that the treasure, and Loki himself, were both better off outside of Midgard. He certainly preferred to be going back to Asgard for whatever feeble punishment surely awaited him. Humans were worse than insects, and Loki was tired of being around their kind. Thor had made the right choice by getting the both of them out of there. But in his current state, there wasn’t much Loki could do to feign his gratitude. 

 

He also wasn’t sure if he wanted to. Thor had made an enemy out of him, and Loki wasn’t feeling quite ready to sham repentance. 

 

Their relationship, always so often on fragile footing, had finally split in two, and he knew the rift would never be mended. His brother had new friends now, anyway. He didn’t need Loki. And Loki didn’t want him back. He preferred to hate, and hate without reason. Animosity, especially towards Thor, felt like breathing. 

 

The Avengers watched him carefully as they prepared to leave, but Loki was determined to avoid their gazes. He decided to look upwards, towards the clouds gathering rapidly above the park, instead. He never wanted to see another mortal again. 

 

He did not regret anything he had done to them. Not the civilian casualties, not the damage done to their paltry, feeble excuse for a city, and certainly not the pain he had caused Thor’s new brothers-in-arms. The god of thunder had chosen a side, and Loki was not on it. But he didn’t mind. Loki was determined to own his story, and no doubt was it better than the alternative of pretending at innocence. Behind were his choices, and ahead were the consequences he had asked for. He would subvert them soon enough. This was what it was to be Loki.

 

Midgard, Thanos, the Chitauri... it had all been a disaster, and he hated Thor for his part in the debacle, yes, but he no longer had any illusions over who was  _ right, good, worthy _ . Did he ever? He was fine with leaving those titles to his brother. Let him have the responsibility. Loki may have been a scapegoat for the actions of another, but he was an evil, cursed one, and he never wished it to change. He could shoulder the guilt. The god of ruin, forever, endlessly, infinitely. He reveled in the certainty of it.

 

But the god of lies, still. And now he was expected to atone for his sins, beg for forgiveness, assure the universe and his family of his ability to be better than _just_ _Loki._ So he would do precisely that. At least outwardly.

 

Thor would expect him to behave better than what his actions on Midgard had proven him to be. To start, he could have an ounce of contrition for his many mistakes.  _ If you can’t be better, at least be sorry.  _ And so Loki was fully prepared to act as though he did. He would have to come up with a bet with himself over how long it would take them to forgive him. 

 

Loki had it all planned out.  _ Three steps to get your life back on track.  _

 

Step one: survive a short while in Asgard’s dungeons; Frigga will feel bad for you. She will bring you good food and books and love. 

 

Step two: Frigga, Thor, Odin... one of them will break knowing you’re down there,  _ alone  _ and  _ cold,  _ with nothing but your own guilt to keep you company. It will be a short sentence. You have a chance now to win back an iota of autonomy with your convincing act of repentance. You will be freed, on conditions. Most likely be confined to Asgard for eternity. Be the bored lesser prince, once more. 

 

Step three: Ignore all vows and promises and figure out how to leave. Proceed to ruin everything. Again.

 

It would all be very easy. Three steps, and then Loki could go back to doing what he did best: being a thorn in Asgard’s side. 

 

He tried to smile under the muzzle, but the unforgiving metal only pulled at and cracked his skin. Loki was bad. A sinner. A conduit for evil, madness, chaos. And he would always be this way.

 

Thor took the Tesseract and turned to face Loki. “Ready to go back?”

 

Loki was forced to bite back his retort. 

 

Selvig laughed, so very relaxed now that his once-master was beaten, and turned to face him. “No answer? What a shame! Enjoy your cage as much as I did mine, Loki. Hope to never see you again!” Thor returned his laugh and clapped him on the shoulder. Loki only rolled his eyes. 

 

Thor looked back at his brother. “Oh, there’s much more than a cell for Loki to look forward to,” he replied brightly. He winked, but Loki wasn’t sure whether it was directed towards him or the physicist. “Goodbye, friend Selvig.”

 

Loki raised his eyebrows. Maybe he had underestimated Thor. Maybe he would be getting the punishment he deserved. 

 

Thor offered him the other handle of the Tesseract’s vessel and Loki took it, staring his brother dead in the eyes. He turned the handle, and they were gone.

 

* * *

 

The first thing Loki saw upon arriving on Asgard were the faces of his parents looking down on him.  _ So that’s how this is going to be. _

 

Loki studied their cold expressions while Thor attempted to reclaim his bearings. Traveling by Tesseract was much quicker, but also more harrowing than by Bifrost. Much more similar to the portals Loki created himself for inter-realm travel. Thor wasn’t so used to those. Nary an instant after they had left the mortals did the brothers materialize in Asgard’s throne room. Thor seemed slightly surprised when they appeared here rather than in the Bifrost observatory, even though he had chosen this destination. He looked rather nauseous, too.

 

Loki was also somewhat disappointed. Though he should have known better than to expect Thor to take him anywhere besides where he was instructed to, Thor’s comment back on Midgard had instilled in him a glimmer of curiosity as to his brother’s intentions. He thought they might have appeared elsewhere, maybe away from their parents, where Loki could have enjoyed a moment of peace before his sentencing. One might have called it hope.

 

But here they were. And upon seeing the look on Odin’s face, Loki suddenly felt very foolish for hoping for any sort of latitude. He swallowed. Maybe Thor had been alluding to a more lethal punishment. No... that couldn’t be. Banishment, maybe, but never death. 

 

Thor handed the Tesseract to a nearby guard and instructed him to place it in the vault. Loki decided to ignore the potential of a greater punishment in favor of composing a contemptuous, bored expression. He tipped his chin up and stared at the ceiling.

 

“Ready, brother?” 

 

Loki felt the strong grip upon his upper arm again, pulling him forward to meet his doom. Odin was seated upon the golden throne, leaning back into it, looking unusually relaxed. He wore a similar expression to Loki’s carefully composed one. Frigga stood nervously by the Allfather’s side, her hand on his shoulder. Armed guards flanked the throne beside them.

 

Despite himself, Loki felt fear. He was glad Thor had not unmuzzled him. At least they could not see his lips quivering. 

 

He recollected himself and arranged his face into a picture of contrition. 

 

“Loki. You stand accused of bringing a Chitauri army into Midgard, wreaking havoc upon innocent mortals, among other crimes.” Odin’s voice was too calm; Loki was used to this. He was well-conditioned to hear the anger hidden in the low growl of his father’s voice.

 

In contrast, it was easy to hear the emotion in Frigga’s words, only hers didn’t  _ seem _ angry, which shouldn’t have surprised Loki as much as it did. This was Loki’s mother, after all. “Thor, dear, can you please remove that awful thing? How is he supposed to explain to us what happened if he can’t even-”

 

Odin cut her off. “No. He has shown us exactly what happened. He has shown us exactly what is in his heart. He has not earned the right to defend himself.” The rage was starting to breach through his controlled demeanor. Maybe Loki’s fear of execution had not been such a ridiculous thought.

 

“Father, do we still have our agreement?” Thor asked. He hadn’t moved; he was still standing stiff as a board next to Loki, grip still vicelike upon Loki’s arm.  _ Another bruise. _

 

A tingle danced through Loki’s innards. He could not tell whether it was terror or excitement. Thor, planning something behind his back? Surely, Thor would not have requested Loki’s execution. He was too weak for that. If not a death penalty, however... what?

 

Odin dipped his head low in assent. 

 

Frigga looked around, confused. “Agreement? Why wasn’t I told of this?”

 

Still staring at Loki, Odin replied, “Thor requested a boon of me when he asked whether he and Loki could return to Asgard. I have granted it.”

 

Frigga turned to him, her own temper growing. “So I understand. But  _ what _ is this agreement? He’s my son too, you know. Do I not have a say in his punishment?”

 

_ Her son. Present tense. _ The nameless tingle had been growing stronger, but the confirmation of Frigga’s boundless love for him soothed it slightly. If she had a say, Loki would be shown mercy. 

 

“Thor will execute the punishment upon Loki.” Odin’s voice had grown quiet again. 

 

Loki’s jaw clenched and Thor’s grip on his arm grew ever stronger. This tension would soon break, and Loki knew that he would not escape the piercing shrapnel. 

 

“Mother, there is a... a place upon Asgard,” Thor said. “Far from here, beyond The Land of Fallen Stars. There is strong magic there, magic I believe can help Loki. I’m sure you’ve heard of it. It is a place of great honor,” he explained. 

 

Frigga’s eyebrows knitted together in recognition, but Loki hadn’t heard of this mysterious place. A rather unusual fact. Or perhaps not, given how Thor had described it. Still, Odin had granted this favor. It was decided. Loki was leaving. Thor hadn’t lied.

 

“I will take Loki there,” he continued. “I believe it will be more... effective than letting Loki rot in a cell for the rest of his days.”

 

Loki scowled under the muzzle, forgetting again that it didn’t even allow him the leeway to emote. What a vague punishment to give. 

 

Frigga’s mouth set in resigned acceptance. And Loki had no say in the matter at all. Pitiful. This may have thrown a wrench into his plans, but he was sure he’d come up with a better one soon. He welcomed the challenge.

 

“Aye,” Frigga said, voice sounding much stronger now. “Just... please. For me, please do not leave Asgard. I cannot bear another hour wondering what greater trouble your actions have unleashed upon us all.” Her face softened and she shifted her gaze between her sons. “I believe in you, Thor. And I believe in you, Loki.”

 

Thor relaxed, but Loki felt his excitement growing. Was this... gratefulness?

 

“Thank you, Mother. It means much to me to know I have your blessing. If it quells your fears, know that I have agreed with the Midgardian leader, Nick Fury, that Loki will not leave Asgard for the remainder of his days.” Loki almost snickered. So Thor was taking orders from mortals, now?  _ For shame.  _ Thor, however, saw his promise as no light matter. “I will not fail you. And neither will Loki,” Thor said, and released Loki’s arm to pat him on the back, just slightly too hard to be entirely friendly. He sounded beyond pleased that his request was being granted, and it showed. Loki found it difficult to be annoyed at his brother when he’d saved him from certain boredom. Thor was himself again, ever a catalyst for action, and for once, Loki was thankful for it.

 

He still hated him, though.

 

“I trust that you will give Loki what he deserves,” said Odin austerely.  _ Trust?  _ “The enchantment is strong. We will not be able to see you. It is entirely your responsibility, Thor, to punish Loki accordingly.” Loki exhaled sharply. Heimdall’s vision must not be able to reach this mysterious place. Obviously, Thor must have known that, which meant... Odin wanted Loki to know that he wouldn’t be watched.  _ Interesting _ . 

 

Loki could feel Thor smile widely next to him; his warmth was contagious. “Yes, Allfather. It will be done.”

 

With a harsh clang, Odin slammed Gungnir on the floor, and Thor took it as a leave-taking. He roughly grabbed the chain connecting Loki’s handcuffs and yanked on them to make Loki face him.   
  


“Are you ready for an adventure, brother mine?” he teased. Loki could only roll his eyes in response before Thor led him out of the throne room at an unusually quick pace. Loki could hear Odin and Frigga muttering behind him, but couldn’t make out the words. 

 

 

* * *

 

It transpired that Loki would indeed be spending a short time in a cell. Thor needed the time to prepare for their journey, and apparently didn’t want Loki around to help him. Loki decided that that was fair. They both knew that he would get in the way as much as possible.

 

Thor had taken him directly from the throne room down into the dungeons, depositing his brother in a small holding cell near the front. Thankfully, he’d removed the muzzle. Loki’s first gasp of air through his mouth was immeasurably gratifying, like coming up to the surface after an eon spent underwater. It was a shame that the dank air under the palace tasted so strongly of despair.

 

Loki immediately started using his mouth for its intended purpose. “I thought you said we were leaving.” His voice was cracked and gravelly from disuse. 

 

Thor’s reply was jovial. “We are! Tomorrow. I have to have our horses prepared. Map out the best route through the mountains. Talk to our parents more, see my friends... there’s a lot to do. Who knows how long we’ll be away, anyway. You can survive one night in here!”

 

“You don’t know how long we’ll be there? Was this not your plan?”

 

“I haven’t a clue. I’ll explain when we get there. It’s really all up to you, not me. Start scheming, brother.”

 

Loki didn’t like the sound of that. He did feel a twinge of pride, however. Thor was up to something, and Loki could respect  _ that _ . “And horses? You know I could get us there in the wave of a hand.”

 

Thor laughed, but the tone of it was brittle. “Ah, Loki, but that would require me to trust you. We’re taking horses. It’s not too long a journey. A few days. Get excited! It may even be fun.” He left the cell without waiting for Loki’s reply.

 

Loki’s night in the dungeons was uneventful. The other cells all seemed to be empty, and he had no visitors and nothing at all to do. For once, he welcomed the silence. It sounded like opportunity. After Thor left, he laid down upon the hard floor, staring up into the blank ceiling. He worked out his aching jaw and inspected the bruises on his body after he could stare upwards no more. He decided to let them stay, rather than magicking them away with a muttered spell. Maybe they’d remind Thor of what he had already done to his wicked brother.

 

In the golden glow of the cell’s force-barrier, it never seemed like night, so Loki stayed awake, ruminating on what exactly his punishment and the course he was about to embark on entailed. It wasn’t too surprising that he hadn’t heard of this place and Thor had. Loki was ignorant of much of Asgard’s geography and history, given his disdain for what turned out to be his adopted realm, and he hadn’t an idea of what this place might be. He knew of the landmark Thor had mentioned - The Land of Fallen Stars. It was named such because it was the last place the light of Asgard’s orbiting star, Garm, touched before crossing over the horizon to the underside of the golden realm. The land was a vast valley, on the opposite end of Asgard from the city, but he knew little of it beyond its whereabouts. Oh, and the ghost stories. Rarely did anyone go there, but more rarely did anyone return.

 

Loki couldn’t wait to see it. He shut his eyes and tried to sleep.

 

* * *

 

_ Punishment. _

 

_ Honor. _

 

_ What he deserves. _

 

By Loki’s imprecise reckoning, it must’ve been at least midnight now, and yet he still hadn’t fallen asleep. It was impossible to find rest when the conversation in the throne room played back unbidden, over and over, within his mind. He had too much to think about for rest to come.

 

Obviously, Thor must have put a lot of thought into this plan; he must have had strong feelings against leaving Loki to rot in a cell for eternity if he cared so much to convince Odin to let him play arbitrator. Loki wondered if Thor had to beg his father for it. How he would have liked to have seen that. 

 

The fury was so clear in Thor’s voice now. Every word towards Loki dripped with haphazardly-contained vitriol, even the seemingly-kind ones. How deep must his hatred run. And soon, Loki would be its sole outlet.

 

For all of this though, something still seemed off to Loki. What tortures could Thor come up with that he had to execute them away from the greedy eyes of Heimdall and the corresponding judgment of their parents? It had sounded like Thor was planning on bringing him back to the palace... eventually... so it couldn’t be that bad, could it? Thor wouldn’t kill him.

 

But... he could come close. Loki knew himself well enough to know that he would inevitably mock and tease Thor into making everything worse on himself. Maybe Loki would set him off so badly that Thor would lose control, as if asking for his own death  _ and _ handing Thor the very tools for him to execute it. Loki knew it was not out of the question for his brother to abandon his sanity for the embrace of glorious ire if Loki pushed for it. The trickster god was certain that he was capable of that.

 

Loki imagined how it might look. It was a beautiful sight, really. Righteous, poetic, desperate justice. Loki would bring his brother to the brink of madness with his silver tongue. Thor would be so filled with rage that the storm would pour out of him, a conduit for the deadly lightning. Loki would be its sole target. He could survive a lot, but Thor had always been the stronger one.

 

And Loki would die. He would never leave Asgard again.

 

The thought brought him firstly a queer measure of comfort. He had always known Thor would be the death of him. The god of evil may only be vanquished by the god of honor. It was right and just and Loki almost yearned for it.

 

He felt a tear drip off his prone face onto the stone floor and smiled, a true, warm smile, and tried to fall asleep again.

 

But the thought of Thor wouldn’t stop badgering him. He had been acting rather strange ever since Loki had arrived on Midgard, and the feeling had only grown stronger after returning to their home. Loki also knew it was rather hypocritical to think this, given exactly what he was on Midgard to do. Given what Thor saw him doing on Midgard. But Thor was supposed to be better than Loki. More stable, more predictable, and yet his moods of late had been unprecedented. They were always twofold; when he seemed happy, there was a frailty to it; when he seemed sorrowful, it sounded like affection. Such created an unpredictability that Loki was not used to deciphering in his brother. 

 

And now that Thor seemed so bright and happy, Loki felt the disturbing undercurrent. He wasn’t sure whether Thor was trying to hide it, or if he truly didn’t know that his own frenzy buzzed just below the surface. Loki intended to wrest it out of him either way. 

 

It took him a long time to finally fall asleep, but when he did, it was with the thought of Thor’s face, eyes alight with crackling lightning behind his own lids. His wishes from before had been foolish. He did not want to die. With luck, this dream would only ever exist in his imagination.

 

* * *

 

The image was resurrected a few hours later when Thor rudely shook him awake. Unlike in Loki’s memory, though, he was smiling with unrestrained excitement, Mjolnir swinging happily on his hip. And his eyes were blue. No more.

 

Loki crinkled his face, hiding from the light, and turned onto his side. His neck hurt from sleeping on the floor. “I’m up, I’m up. Just... give me a minute. I know I’m supposed to be punished and all, but... you’ve gotten off to a very good start already.” Loki took his sleep very seriously.

 

“No time for wasting, Loki. You’ve got a lot to look forward to!”

 

“Is time spent asleep really time wasted, though?”

 

“Well. You may have a point there. But  _ I’m _ not asleep. Come on,” Thor said, and rolled him back over, slapping the handcuffs back on Loki buoyantly. Like before, he pulled on the chain to force Loki into sitting up. Loki’s eyes were still closed.

 

“Fine. Take me.” 

 

Thor happily complied, yanking him to a standing position and pulling him through the deactivated force barrier. 

 

Loki started to wake up more and more with each step. He ached. It occurred to him that whatever fate was ahead of him, he preferred it to an eternity sleeping on a stone floor. 

 

Thor said nothing more as he quietly led Loki through the palace hallways and out a back door. It was very early and still dark outside.  _ Ah. So he doesn’t want to be seen.  _ Loki didn’t mind. 

 

“If you’re wondering why we aren’t heading to the stables, Father thought it best that the rest of Asgard didn’t see our departure. He thought they might wonder.”

 

So they were _ sneaking _ out. The list of hitherto unknown Thor traits that Loki respected grew by one more. He kept his reply sarcastic, however. “I had figured that out well enough myself, thank you. I would have just preferred not having to be awakened this unreasonably early, after my three measly hours of sleep.”

 

“You were in there for seven. It’s not my fault that you chose not to put all of them to use.”

 

_ It was your fault, actually _ , Loki thought, but he chose to keep that information to himself. “It’s hard to sleep on the ground. You could’ve given me a pillow.”

 

“Show our most dangerous prisoner, who committed endless atrocities across one of the realms Asgard is sworn to protect, and for it should be at the gallows right now, a mercy? I couldn’t,” Thor jested, though he didn’t sound very amused.

 

“How noble of you,” Loki retorted. They had arrived at a small, dank copse, far behind the palace, where two horses laden with full saddlebags waited for them. Thor left his brother, still handcuffed, to clamber up upon the buckskin horse without help. 

 

Thor mounted his, a pale-grey, black-maned stallion, with ease. He watched Loki struggle to gain purchase on the mare with interest. 

 

“Oh, and before you try anything, Mother, ah... she cast some sort of spell on you, last night. Something that affects your magic. For both of our safeties.” He chuckled. “I don’t think she cut off your seidr entirely - to be honest, I’m not sure that’s even possible - but to my knowledge, you won’t be able to do much. It’s a rather unconventional spell,” Thor mused. He actually seemed interested; seidr was not something he spent much thought on usually. He brought the horse to a walk before continuing. Loki’s followed, seemingly of its own accord. “You won’t be able to move more than a few yards from me. So no teleporting away. No escaping your retribution.”

 

“And that’s all it does?” Loki asked suspiciously. Leave it to Frigga to say it did more than it really did, if only to test him.

 

“That’s all. Well, all that I know of.”

 

“You do realize there’s far more I can do to hurt you than to simply leave.”

  
“I know.”

 

“You’re still in danger, Thor.” For once, Loki was deadly serious. He stared into the back of Thor’s neck, wishing him to turn around and see just how afraid of his brother he should be, but to no avail. 

 

“Am I? I hadn’t noticed,” he teased, and spurred his horse to a gallop. Loki’s was forced to follow. He groaned, but gave up the fight.

 

It was easier to relax once they escaped the noise of the waking city behind them. Loki figured there wasn’t much he could, or needed to, do to steer the horse in the right direction, so he took the opportunity to absorb the wild Asgardian countryside. He had forgotten how harsh the landscape of the realm was beyond the confines of the city. They were still relatively close, though, and the trees here were old but short, stunted by the noise and light from the Aesir bordering their land. They passed little wildlife. The underbrush seemed dry and feeble, as if a single lightning strike would set the entire forest on fire. 

 

Still, it was nicer than sitting in a cell, and Loki tried to appreciate it despite the growing soreness in his body. The horses made easy way of the seldom-used trail, narrow and laden with ragged black rocks as it was. Each impact of the buckskin’s hooves on the ground rubbed Loki’s already-raw wrists deeper to the bone. He said nothing. He knew it was about to get a whole lot worse. 

 

After an hour of good headway through rather precipitous terrain, Thor slowed his stallion back to a walk. He seemed to be looking for something through the dense trees. 

 

“Ah. There it is!” He gestured the horse off to the left, off the trail and around a large granite bluff. The mica peppering its surface sparkled crimson in the rising sun. Thor dismounted and threw back his head, basking in the daylight. 

 

They were high up in the mountains already, and here the flora had grown much more wild. The city looked diminutive below. Surrounding Thor was a small, very green meadow, where the snowmelt from above pooled into a perfectly-round, ice-blue lake. Purple and yellow wildflowers dotted the grass, and a small fire pit graced the near shore. Its blackened contents were the only ugliness marring the landscape.

 

Thor’s joy was impossible to ignore. “We used to stop here to eat and rest at the beginnings and ends of hunting trips. Father and I,” he said, and led his horse around to the water. 

 

Loki shouldered his amusement. “Oh, so this is where you were? I assumed ‘hunting trip’ nearly always meant ‘brothel trip’.”

 

Thor laughed. “No, you didn’t. Come on, there’s no shame in being jealous! You  _ could _ have come along with us. But you didn’t want to. Don’t act like that was my fault!”

 

_ Not jealous.  _ Even in his mind, though, Loki knew he wasn’t convincing. “Is this my punishment, then? Being reminded of all the glorious things I didn’t do with you when we were children?”

 

“‘Course not. That’s still to come. Look forward to it, brother!” He pulled a skin of mead and a small loaf of bread out of a pocket on the saddlebag, and took a long swig. Loki looked on with envy. He hadn’t eaten in at least a full day. “Ah, my bad. Here, take some. Might be easier if you just don’t dismount, eh? We won’t be here long.”

 

He handed Loki half of the bread, which Loki reckoned he finished quicker than he had ever eaten anything. Thor didn’t tear his eyes off him all the while, and handed him the skin when he was finished swallowing. Loki gratefully accepted it, and took three long chugs. He felt much more like himself now that he needn’t fear immediate starvation. 

 

He avoided Thor’s gaze as he inhaled the thin air, instead focusing on the way the water trickled down the mountainside in an endless array of miniature waterfalls to collect all in the same place. The clearing really was beautiful. “You must truly hate me to show me all of this.”

 

Thor laughed, and Loki knew he meant it. “Hate doesn’t even begin to describe how I feel about you, Loki.” The sinister undercurrent was back in full force. 

 

“And you still won’t tell me where we’re going?”

 

“You’ll see soon enough,” Thor said darkly, and untied the grey stallion. He remounted him gracefully and pulled the reins steeply to the left to turn back around to the trail. Loki’s anger hadn’t faded, and although this place was magnificent, he found himself wanting to flee from it. Something about the dug-up memories and the confirmation of Thor’s hatred for him emboldened the lesser son. He wanted to kindle it, nurture it through the rest of the trip so that Thor would be on the cusp of a breaking point when the time finally came to let it out. 

 

He was glad when his mare complied with Thor’s egression, and the brothers left the sunny meadow, cantering north through the Asgardian wilderness to a fate Loki couldn’t wait to meet.


	2. Chapter 2

Thor didn’t provide much response to Loki’s annoying jibes for the next few days. After the first mountain passes were behind them, he gave up, instead enjoying the rugged peaks all around and the relentless rushing of the streams and the swaying of the pines in the adamant wind around them. And when that became boring, his eyes would wander to the back of Thor’s head, where the breeze played in his blonde curls, lifting the light strands in a gentle dance that only calmed when the forest became especially thick. The sight entranced Loki. He hated it.

 

At first, Loki was dead-set on convincing Thor just how deep his wickedness ran. However, it soon became clear that his actions were having little effect, and he gave up after receiving only silence in return for all of his grandiose reminders of evil. It wasn’t very much fun acting in this way when it fell on such deaf ears. In that way, Loki was rather perturbed by Thor’s unusually composed demeanor. He seemed happy enough, but it was a quiet happy, a peace too deep for Loki to rouse. Boring. Every night it was the same; Loki would be the first to sleep and the last to wake, always finding himself alone in the little tent they had brought. He wasn’t fond of this change in Thor, but he admitted to himself that Thor was surely not fond of the change he saw in Loki, either.

 

As Garm was daring to fall low in the northern sky on the fifth night, they neared the edge of the trees and were greeted by a vast, grey valley, where the river they had been following widened and split into seemingly infinite capillaries, all feeding into the sea encircling Asgard’s continent. The place emitted a strange aura; it seemed a world away from the rest of the bountiful Golden Realm. The water didn’t seem to nourish the land around it, rather Loki got the impression that the life force from the few feeble plants still enduring the ancient wasteland was being suckled at by the hungry watershed. 

 

_ The Land of Fallen Stars, indeed.  _ Wise of Thor to have brought his own lost luminary here. Loki allowed himself a sarcastic chuckle at the thought.

 

Thor tugged again at the horse’s reins, leading him off the trail back into the shelter-giving trees. “We’ll camp here for the night.” His voice was flat and rather lifeless, but it had lost the calm undercurrent of before. He almost sounded fearful. Maybe the ghost stories had gotten to him.

 

Loki, always the contrarian, was in much higher spirits now. Soon, the surprise would be revealed. “Wonderful. And what a beautiful view to burn into my eyes before my imminent death. What do you think? Tomorrow, the next day? Or will you drag it out as long as you can? I, for one, can’t wait to see.”

 

Thor dismounted and began setting up the camp. He seemed rather rushed. “What makes you so certain I’m going to kill you?”

 

Loki slid off the buckskin with as much grace as he could manage. “Why, brother? It’s because I trust you. You wouldn’t let our dear father down, and we all know it’s the smartest option. For our family, for Asgard, and most certainly for the nine realms. Even Frigga knows I’m a liability!” He punctuated it with a smile.

 

“You’re an opportunity, Loki. Look forward to your death all you want, but it’s not going to happen. I’m not killing you, and I’ll do my best to prevent you from killing yourself, too. You are not getting out of this that easy. I know you take your life as seriously as Stark takes-” He cut off, instead busying himself by pulling a hatchet out of one of the saddlebags and tucking it into his belt. 

 

Loki raised his eyebrows, stretching his smile further upward. “What was that?”

 

“Nothing. Just know that-”

 

Loki interrupted him this time. “It’ll be worse than death? Splendid. Can’t wait.”

 

Loki considered his own words for a moment as Thor began collecting fallen tree limbs for a fire. The entire forest here seemed drained and half-dead. There wouldn’t even be smoke to give them away tonight, if there were any living creatures out here to witness their quiet trudge towards oblivion. Thor piled a dozen splintered branches up next to a dry stump and placed the first one upright on it. Loki, content to not help out, sat down on the ground.

 

“I’m not letting you fall again,” Thor said as he swung a hatchet down into one of the logs. Loki could barely hear it over the sound of the wood splitting.

 

“What was that?” Thor didn’t respond. “Feeling guilty about the last time, then? Is that what I just heard?” he teased, ramping up the fabricated cheerfulness. He looked up expectantly at Thor. “Not to put this on you, but you really do deserve some of the blame for my being here in the first place,” Loki explained.

 

“If you’re hoping for me to react to this, you will be disappointed.”

 

Loki rolled his eyes and sat forward, dropping his hands between his extended legs, weaving patterns into the dry grass with stiff fingers. Clearly, this was an invitation for him to try harder.

 

“I keep telling you, so I thought this was clear already, but I will say it again because it is very important that you accept it. I don’t regret any of it - any of what I did on Midgard, or before. If you think otherwise, if you think you can cover up my motivations and actions and desires and make me a portrait of innocence and purity, you’re wrong. That is not and will never be me. I’m a killer, Thor… but so are you. We will die before we change that part of us.” He paused for dramatic effect. By now, the words came to him easily, and it felt good to let them out. Self-destruction was now Loki’s norm. “So whatever tortures you’re intending to inflict upon me, tomorrow until who-knows-when, know that I will enjoy each and every one of them, because they will remind me of who I am. And I like who I am.” He turned his gaze back up to Thor, who had stopped chopping the wood. Thor’s expression was unreadable; he said nothing, but nodded curtly.

 

“No response? Wonderful. I get to guess what you’re thinking.”

 

“It’s no matter, Loki. I can’t punish you for what’s inside that damned head of yours. Only for what you did.”

 

“You sound like Odin! Come on, aren’t you even a little curious as to what predicated all of my  _ evilness? _ ”

 

Thor dropped the hatchet and sat down on the tree stump. “This is about the void, then? That’s what you mean by this being my fault?” Thor had noticed the bait.

 

“Oh, no,” Loki laughed, internally shaking off memories of what had happened back then. “I could see why one might think that! But let me guess. You think I was solely acting as some agent of a greater evil, right? Threatened and forced to inflict another’s atrocities upon an unsuspecting realm? Allow me to quell those theories. I  _ wanted _ that, Thor. I wanted the power, the domination. You of all people should know how that feels.” Loki had caught his brother’s interest, he knew it. All that remained to see was whether he would bite.

 

Instead, though, Thor turned away and began collecting stones, arranging them in a neat circle and placing a few logs in the center. “Light that.”

 

Loki narrowed his eyes. Foiled. No matter, there was still plenty of time to ignite this particular fuse. Maybe that was why Thor backed off, so it would be more powerful when it finally came. Loki relented and whispered a spell to start the fire upon the logs. How kind of Frigga not to take away the life-saving type of magic. Loki wondered which other ones she had let him keep.

 

“This isn’t over.” 

 

“I know.”

 

The rest of the evening continued rather uneventfully, with the brothers sharing a small dinner and wineskin. They said little more to each other, but a sharp sense of anxiety buzzed in with the mist that settled on the mountainside with the coming of darkness. 

 

Loki curled up in the tent immediately after finishing his supper, and again, Thor didn’t follow him in, preferring to stay outside in the heat of the fire. Loki fell asleep before hearing so much as a rustle from outside the tent. 

 

* * *

 

They were up before the sun breached the summits of the mountains at their backs. Thor woke first again. Loki knew this for certain, because he was awakened by the aggressive disassembly of the tent around him.

 

“Hey!”   
  


“Brother, I think we may be able to pack up and go back home! Clearly interrupting your sleep is the most effective punishment I could give you.” 

 

Loki’s face contorted into a half-scowl, half-grin. Thor’s good mood had seemingly returned. 

 

“ _ Hmph. _ You know, for once, I actually agree with you.” Loki scrambled out of the tent, rubbing his eyes. Thor had packed most everything up already. “If you took these wretched things off me, I could’ve helped,” Loki said, gesturing to the handcuffs that still graced his pale arms. “Why do I need to wear them if I can’t leave, anyway?”

 

Thor smirked, but moved to remove them. “Maybe I just like the sight of you in them. Also, you hadn’t asked.”

 

Loki stuck out his hands. “Oh, that’s sweet,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. Thor unlocked the cuffs, putting them in one of the empty saddlebag compartments.  _ So he expects to need them later. _

 

“Thank you. I assume we’re almost there?” Loki rubbed his wrists. They didn’t look as bad as he expected they would.

 

“Half a day’s ride more. Then a bit farther after that, and then we will be there.”

 

Loki mounted his mare and smiled. “Can’t wait.”

 

* * *

 

Half a day’s ride Thor had said, and half a day it was before they reached the far shore of Asgard’s continent. The raging, blue-grey sea crashed ahead of them, and dead, sand-drowned estuaries lay quiet and dormant behind. Only the first few rolling waves were visible out past the sandbars before all gave way to an impenetrable mist beyond. Loki knew that the void alone existed past that. 

 

“This is where you’ve been taking me? If you wanted to throw me back into the void, you could’ve just dropped me off the Bifrost bridge again. And then seen me back in another month or so, even more murderous than after the first time. Surely you don’t want that!”

 

Thor dismounted and motioned for Loki to do the same. “Sometimes, I don’t know how, in all of your supposed cleverness, you miss so much of what’s right in front of you. And manage to joke about your own tragedies.”

 

“What can I say, it’s a gift,” Loki replied, and slid off the mare. His boots hit the sodden ground with a sickening squelch. From this vantage point, he could make out the shape of a small rowboat near-sunk into the sea-saturated sand in front of them. 

 

“I... didn’t expect it to be so inaccessible,” Thor said, mostly to himself. He stared out beyond the whitecaps, searching for something Loki doubted was there.

 

“Thor, I’ve been alive for a thousand years and I’ve never heard of anything existing beyond this valley. Or clearly I didn’t deem it important enough to commit to memory. But I don’t think whatever this mysterious location is, is necessarily a popular vacation destination.”

 

“We’ll see. Help me lift this, prisoner,” Thor retorted, hunching down to try and haul up the sunken boat.

 

“Calling names now, are we? Alright, half-wit, step aside, then.” Loki sincerely hoped this worked, that Frigga hadn’t taken away the seidr he might use for this. He concentrated hard on the words of a spell to release the boat from its clammy grave. He didn’t like saying them out loud when he was being watched.

 

To Loki’s relief, it worked, the water and sand draining out of the boat as if the elements themselves had been struck by some sudden repulsion to it. The boat floated back to the surface of the shallow water unencumbered. 

 

Thor stepped back, surprised, and gave his brother a genuine smile. “Thank you, Loki,” he said. “You just saved me a morning of sore shoulder blades.”

 

“All you had to do was ask.”

 

Thor’s smile grew deeper and darker, the lines around his eyes squishing together, making his near-translucent eyelashes flash in the sunlight. He detached the saddlebags from the horses and set them in the dry boat, sitting down inside it with his back to the void.

 

“One last thing.”

 

“You wish me to send the horses back? Way ahead of you,” Loki said, and patted the grey one on the rump, whispering instructions for them to go back to the palace stables. He didn’t need a spell for it. They took off in a gleeful gallup across the salty marshes.

 

Loki sat down in the other end of the boat. It was so small that their knees nearly touched. 

 

“I assume you want me to do all the work now, too?”

 

“You don’t know where we’re going. So no.” Thor took hold of the paddles on either side and began a steady pace, rowing back into the unknown.

 

“Good point.” At least Loki was facing forwards, with a view of what lay beyond. He soon realized, however, that it didn’t matter much where he looked. After only a few dozen yards on the open sea, the mist grew too thick to navigate in any direction. It was cold, too, with the biting wind that somehow wasn’t strong enough to clear the fog. Each wave crashing against them threatened to breach the tall sides of the boat, if not overturn them completely. A harsh, unforgiving journey.

 

Loki relaxed into the powerlessness. He lay back and gazed up through the fog to glimpse the bare stars above. His hair was drenched with every wave that shuddered up the sides of the boat, but it was better than having to look his brother in the eye. “Thor,” Loki said, “how do you know if we’re even going the right way if we can’t see? That we’re not, you know, about to row off the face of Asgard?”

 

“Just a feeling. Some sort of... primitive attraction.”

 

Loki snickered. “Surely, you jest,” he deadpanned.

 

Thor’s voice was relaxed, but his rowing pace quickened. “I’m not! The scroll said something about the ‘beholden knowing the way’. I can feel it. We’ll be there soon.”

 

“Wonderful. So I expect if we capsized now, or if I tried to leave - if I even could - I’d end up nowhere but the void again? How clever of you.” The roar of the waterfall signifying the end of the world was growing stronger.

 

“Yes, and that’s why Frigga’s spell was so important.”

 

Loki sarcastically smiled. “You crafty bastards.”

 

Thor snorted. “Am I the bastard, now? I’ll-” he started to say, but lurched forward from the impact of hitting land before he could finish his retort.

 

The island was so small that Loki could see the curve of its edge steeply dropping off into the water around the horizon. They had landed on one of the few accessible areas of the shore, where the cliff face was only a couple feet off the surface of the water. Strangely, it was quieter here, though Loki could nearly see the waterfall in the murky distance. The whole island seemed oddly muted. There were no clouds above them, and yet Garm’s rays seemed weak and dim. They were exposed to the face of oblivion.

 

Loki felt fear dancing up the back of his neck.

 

“We’ve made it! See, I told you it wouldn’t be that long.” Thor stepped out of the boat and up onto the rough, porous black rock. Somehow, it hadn’t turned to sand despite millions of years of harsh crashing of the waves onto its cliffs. He grabbed the saddlebags and started walking up towards the elevated center of the island, the spell pulling Loki along with him.

 

There were no trees nor vegetation of any kind. Only rugged, broken obsidian bluffs towering haphazardly, leaning against nothing, threatening to fall at the next gust of wind. The entire place seemed infected with some unseen malice. Perhaps it hid in the innumerous gaping pores of the rocks beneath their feet.

 

This place couldn’t have been of Asgard, Loki thought. This was a parasite.

 

He jogged to catch up to Thor, hiking up the steep terrain towards a leveled out area at the summit of the swelling. He had to look at his feet so that he wouldn’t trip and tumble down the cliff faces into the grey water below. It was a challenging climb, and Loki felt himself tiring quickly. He kept picturing insects crawling out of the rock pores. 

 

After a few short minutes, however, Loki scrambled onto the top of the hill. Here, the black stone was smooth and polished, free of the menacing holes, an expanse of blank slate. Thor was already ahead of him.

 

In the center of the summit stood a clear, crystalline plinth, as tall as a frost giant and wide as Thor twice over, inscribed with runes Loki didn’t recognize. The edges of the pyramidal column were set with vertical bars, truncated every foot or so from bottom to top. Parts of the structure seemed hollow where faint lines traversed up its interior in labyrinthine passageways. The black ground around the plinth sloped down slightly towards it, starting from the first few feet encircling its base and funneling into gaps under the plinth itself. A drain.

 

Loki had a bad feeling about this. There was only one thing that drain could exist to catch, and he far preferred that it stay inside his body.

 

Thor set Mjolnir on the ground with a clink and started inspecting the plinth, running his fingers down the runes. Loki watched, grimacing. Those bars were perfect for chaining someone to. Still, though, he felt much better now that Mjolnir was not in Thor’s hand. 

 

Despite his anxiety, however, his voice came out strong and clear. “Is it perfect, Thor? Exactly how you pictured it? Personally, I think this entire island looks as though it’d be more appropriate on Helheim.” He tried to keep his tone light, but it was difficult when all he could picture was the beautiful crystal wet and opaque with his own blood. 

 

He shivered. It was colder here, and that only added to the feeling of exposure. There was no immediate danger apparent; they were gods, but Heimdall could not see them here. Loki could not shake his fear at being unprotected and bare upon a grand stage. His tortures were about to become trivial entertainment for some faraway beings greater than themselves. 

 

Thor turned around, his face gentle, low voice ripping Loki out of his meditation. “It is.”

 

He walked back to where he had set the laden saddlebags and unbuttoned one of the larger pockets, pulling out the handcuffs along with two short lengths of silvery chain. He approached Loki.

 

Loki smiled and stuck out his hands again. “I’m ready!”

 

“Are you?” Thor replied quietly, and rather than cuffing him, he handed the furnishings to Loki. “They’re not for you.”

 

Loki took them, confused. His face darkened. “You cannot mean-”

 

“I do. Loki, it’s the only thing that will work. You said it yourself. I cannot change who you are. But maybe I can mitigate... some parts of you.” He stuck out his wrists, motioning for Loki to take them into the cold embrace of steel. It occurred to Loki that Thor’s wrists were much larger than his. 

 

“Thor...” he trailed off, looking down and then back into Thor’s wide eyes. “Do you understand what you are asking of me?” He paused, but Thor kept his mouth shut. “You know that if I do this, I do it all the way. No mercy.”

 

Thor knew. He nodded once. “Absolutely, Loki. Trust in me.” It was Loki’s turn to press his lips together. Another shiver ran down his spine. Thor continued. “I know there is good in you. But nothing I do seems to help you get it out, and I realize that now. All I can do is try and... I don’t know, remove some of the bad. Take the weight of it myself. So that others might not.” Thor didn’t say it, but the implication was clear.

 

_ Make me pure. Purge the evil. Exorcise it. So that I might become virtuous. Like you. _

 

The green eyes left the blue, looking down into darkness below.

 

_ God of ruin no longer. An interesting concept. _

 

Loki wondered whether doing just that might take away all that made him Loki. But if Thor was willing to sacrifice himself for this, Loki was too. He was all in. He clasped the cuffs around his brother’s wrists.

 

“I accept.”

 

Thor relaxed and smiled. “Thank you. We will do this together, Loki. You and me.”

 

“Don’t thank me,” Loki replied, deadly serious, and led Thor over to the plinth. He detached the chain connecting the cuffs and started lashing each wrist to the crystal bars attached to each edge so that Thor’s back was to the cold glass. He was not gentle about it. He felt a boiling within him. 

 

Loki stepped back to look at his work, a wicked smile creeping over his mouth. He had everything he wanted: Thor at his ultimate disposal, with the permission to do whatever he thought necessary in order to drain the evil from himself. Time. The only thing he didn’t have was a real audience, unless those unnamed gods could see them. A shame. Loki drank in the sight of the fettered and tamed god before him. The ever-desired intoxication of power was flooding through his veins, feeding his rage, nourishing his frenzy.

 

Where to begin.

 

The shackled god spoke. “Loki, one last thing. There are... requirements of us. Please. Let me explain, and then you can... have your way.” Thor almost seemed to be suppressing a giggle.  _ He expects this to be fun. _

 

Loki rolled his eyes. “Of course there are. Go ahead, enlighten me.”

 

“There’s an enchantment. Upon this place, and upon us, since we came here.”  _ Obviously _ . “The instructions were... cryptic... but I understand that we must prove our bond to one another. A sacrifice will have to be made. On both our parts. And we can only leave after its needs are met.” 

 

“And I thought we could leave here happy and without much bloodshed. You Asgardians are so barbaric.”

 

Thor tried to shrug, though it was barely visible with his hands lashed above his head. “It’s the only way. Lest you forget, brother, that this is your punishment. I don’t intend to let you leave free of full retribution. At least this way, I’ll know whether it is effective or not. I don’t think this spell will be quite as easy for you to fool as you’re used to.”

 

Loki gave him a faux-quizzical look, and slowly started pacing towards the chained Thor. “And if I kill you?”

 

Thor looked down, trying to shield his gaze. “I don’t know.”

 

“Liar,” Loki laughed, bending down to breathe the word into Thor’s face. “It’ll kill me too, I suspect?” 

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“Well, then. This seems to be a larger challenge for you than for me! You have a mighty task ahead of you, Thor. Keep me so interested in ah...  _ getting better _ that I forget that I could end it all for both of us. Fortunately for you, there’s plenty you’ll need to answer for before I’d consider doing that.”

 

“And I will. I’m sure... I’m sure Frigga’s spell prevents you from killing either of us.”

 

“Are you? Better not test it, then.” Loki smiled, inhaling the salty air in droves, and stepped back from Thor.

 

Loki felt like himself again. He was back, and he was free.

 

He conjured a crimson velvet chaise lounge from mid-air in front of the plinth and sat down lazily upon it. 

 

Loki smirked. “Might as well get started!”


	3. Chapter 3

Despite his declaration of commencement, a good night of rest seemed necessary, as Loki was still annoyed at being interrupted from his slumber for two nights in a row and wanted Thor to know it. After a much more reasonable ten hours of sleep, he woke the next morning with the taste of salt strong on his lips and a single-minded focus driving him. He had figured that the best start for their little game was to keep Thor waiting, wondering what horrors were undoubtedly churning in Loki’s head that he would soon be subjected to. Plus, Loki was still tired. Being bad took a lot of energy.

 

Even so, he had gotten the best night of sleep he’d had in months. The terrifying emptiness and exposure he’d felt before had relaxed into a beautiful silence now that Thor was restrained and Loki was in power. Thor hadn’t Mjolnir on his person, and for that, Loki felt safe. Sure, he could probably still summon it. But he wouldn’t. Loki was in an excellent mood, and very excited to begin this game.

 

Unlike during their travels, Thor was still asleep, slumped on the ground against the crystal pillar, when Loki approached him. Loki had moved the cuffs down to a lower bar to allow him to sit, at least, before they’d gone to bed the previous night. He wasn’t a total monster.

 

It was still grey and flat outside, and it was impossible to tell what time it was. Loki deliberated quickly on the cruelest way to wake his brother. Why start with a respite when he could set the stage for Thor’s journey to come? He decided to play upon the scenery, and with his seidr unleashed a torrent of icy water down the plinth and onto Thor’s resting head. 

 

Thor grunted awake, muscles all twitching at the sudden shock.

 

“Oops, did I wake you?” Loki asked innocently. “I was just trying to get us some fresh water. Since we do have to stay alive here, you know.”

 

Thor said nothing, but his heaving chest, now very visible through the thin fabric of his drenched shirt, told Loki well enough about his annoyance. 

 

Loki giggled. “You’re not grateful? We’ll just have to change that, then.” He sat back down upon the chaise. 

 

Thor coughed the water from his lungs. “There are,” another cough, “tools... in the saddlebags.”

 

Loki raised an eyebrow. “Tools? What sort? What could I possibly need  _ those _ for?”

 

“You know.”

 

“Funny. You know as well as I do that the only tool I need to hurt you is up here.” He pointed at his temple with a sharp-nailed finger and rolled his tongue restlessly in his mouth. This was his plan, deliberated on and cemented the night before in the sublime silence of the desolate island. The perfect thinking conditions for which to come up with the best way to torment a god. It was quite simple, really; Thor was far too strong for anyone to break his body, and anyways, torture was not really Loki’s style. But he had a thousand years of practice wresting hurt from others with his words alone, and now he had the ideal subject on which to use that particular skill set. Finally, a glorious chance for the retribution Loki had been aching to give his brother all his life. Better yet, he was not merely consenting to it. He was begging for it.

 

“Where to begin, where to begin,” Loki mused again, trying to drum up the anticipation. Thor just stared blankly at him with the same carefully-emptied expression he put on before each battle.

 

Loki continued. “I’d rather eschew small talk and get to the point. Unless you have any requests, I believe there’s a conversation we never got to finish.”

 

Thor hummed an assent. Loki guessed he didn’t want to talk about the first time Thor saw him back from the dead, on Midgard. Loki’s fall, along with his parentage, were not exactly fun subjects to start with, nor was all the pain they had gone through before those human fools had cut them short. “I’m sorry for what happened to you. For what you went through,” he said, and Loki could hear his sincerity, unreceptive as Loki was to hearing it. “But… I know it’s hard for you to hear this, but you know as well as I that you let go of me on the Bifrost bridge. As well as the fact that it was you, not I, who wished for Jotunheim’s destruction in the first place. Those are just the facts.”

 

_ Truth? That’s what he thinks I want from him?  _ Loki let his temper rise at Thor’s insinuation that his fate was entirely his fault. This was all part of the plan; unfortunately, he felt his anger growing out of control. Thor always managed to say precisely what would give Loki the most pain.

 

“It was  _ your fault! _ Because of what you had been doing, because of what you had been saying our entire lives.” Loki swallowed, unwilling to admit the next part. He only hoped that it would hurt Thor more to hear it than it would hurt Loki to say it. “I was... impressionable. I took your words as truth, back then. Because I...” he trailed off, unsure of how to phrase what was so difficult for him to say.

 

Thor offered an answer anyway. “You cared about me more than them.”

 

Loki threw up his hands in defeat. “Yes. I  _ cared _ more for the people I grew up with, for  _ you _ , than for the people I was born of. Sometimes, I still wonder why.” This wasn’t a lie. Loki knew he could have made a different choice that day.

 

Thor looked up, hopeful, but Loki couldn’t meet his gaze. “I’m with you, Loki. I won’t pretend to understand Odin’s reasoning behind keeping it secret-”

 

“It wasn’t just Odin, Thor! Mo- Frigga was complicit in this, too!”

 

Thor started to reply, to calm him down, but Loki continued, hysteria growing.  _ Already. Didn’t we just get here? _

 

“Odin - fine, I could believe that. He’s a liar and a thief and always hated me. I expect no better from him. But,” Loki squeezed his eyes shut, unwilling to let himself cry over it, “with mother... it feels like betrayal. She knew. She told me she knew. And she never said a thing when it would have mattered.”

 

Loki paused, not knowing how to express exactly how he felt about his mother letting the lie stand over all the years. He hoped that Thor would understand more in his silence than in his words.

 

“Loki, I... I won’t claim to comprehend your pain. I think you have every right to hold a grudge.” He paused, clearly waiting for Loki’s affirmation, but soon gave up. “I’m not exactly happy with their decisions, either. But mother was not trying to hurt you. This I am sure of. She loved you more than...” he trailed off, fingers twitching where they hung from the manacles, then started his thoughts anew. “I think often about the pain that could’ve been saved if our father only had the decency to tell you. When we were young. Things could’ve been different.”

 

A bitter wind gusted over his ears and Loki only stared at his brother. Deep down, he knew that it was better to forgive and forget his mother’s betrayal, no matter how much it hurt, because her intentions were good. Odin’s, however, were not. Despite himself, he couldn’t help knowing Thor was right. It hurt to dream about the time they could’ve spent in solidarity, fighting the imbalance between realms, working for peace and mutual benefit. 

 

Could that have really happened, though, given… everything else? Who each of the brothers grew to be, how their relationship had soured over the years, how Loki could never manage to do the  _ right _ thing no matter the circumstances?

 

No. No, it couldn’t have, and Loki knew that. But it was better to keep believing that this was all Odin’s fault and that it had nothing to do with Loki’s own shortcomings.

 

“Yes, Thor. It could have been different. But that didn’t happen,” Loki said.

 

“No. It didn’t.” Thor looked down, past Loki, past the rugged rocks, into the crashing waves below. He was contemplating how best to get through to Loki, no doubt. “Then, have you considered that your anger might be... misdirected? That maybe, just maybe, I learned all of my ideas about frost giants from the very man who stole one away from his people as a baby?”

 

Loki had considered this. It didn’t stop him from blaming Thor anyway; it never had. But now was not like before, and even Loki could admit that his stubbornness and refusal to reason with Thor would get them nowhere. His silent reproach was futile. 

 

“Yes. I’ve thought about that.”

 

“And you still hate me for it? Loki, if that is the case, I’m afraid we’re not going to get anywhere with this. You know, and I know it, too. As you know that if I’d learned earlier, if you’d learned earlier, I would’ve never said any of those things. I would have stood with you. Against all of Asgard.” 

 

Loki squeezed his eyes shut. Thor always spoke Loki’s truth out into the world. It hurt when he was right. But Loki had no response to this; Thor had said all there was to say on the matter and now Loki was out of arguments for him. Instead, he stood and paced to the edge of the flattened part of the island, testing the limits of how far the spell would allow him to go. The sea looked rather chastened. 

 

“Loki, please.”

 

Loki could hear the desperation in Thor’s voice. He sauntered back over to the plinth. “Fine. That doesn’t mean we’re done.”

 

“Of course it doesn’t.”

 

Loki stopped a few feet clear of Thor; the ridge where the ground began its slope down towards him bent the soles of Loki’s boots awkwardly. From here, he could see the mist condensating on Thor’s forehead, his bare skin smooth and free of goosebumps despite the chill. In these conditions, his drenched shirt would never dry. Loki tipped his head to the side, calculating. He still had one trick up his sleeve before giving up on this argument.

 

“You don’t  _ have _ to do any of this, you know,” Loki said, hoping Thor would catch what he meant by it: that their lack of blood relation should mean that they had no connection at all; that because of their different parentage, there was nothing keeping them together. Thor had no obligation to help Loki. He should know better than to think this was a responsibility.

 

Thor raised his eyebrows. “I won’t stop calling you  _ brother _ . I never will.”

 

“Thor, we’re not-”

 

Thor straightened up, incensed again. “We are. We are brothers. Family. Nothing has changed in that respect. It never will.”

 

Loki inhaled sharply to start dismissing him angrily again, but felt a heavy sorrow sitting on his rage. “You don’t have to say that, you know. I know you’re just used to it, used to me always being there. You grew used to the knife in your back and never bothered to pull it out. But I kept pushing it deeper and deeper. Don’t tell me you can’t feel it.” He took a shaky breath and steadied himself. “Don’t you see, Thor? Everything has changed. Nothing is stopping you from giving up on me. Not Odin, not Frigga. If you came back without me, I guarantee they’d be happier for it.”

 

Thor shook his head dismissively. “Loki, why do you do this?”

 

“Do what?”

 

“Hate yourself so much. Norns, you’re so  _ blind _ .”

 

Loki hadn’t a response to that reprehensible truth. He looked away, unwilling to confront what Thor was telling him.

 

“I  _ want _ to be your brother, Loki. I want this. I don’t care who you were born of. Like it or not, I’m not giving up on you. I wouldn’t be here otherwise. I could have let you rot in a cell.”

 

“If you’re trying to make me grateful, it’s not going to work,” Loki said, still trying to act as though he was above all of this despite the clear, tearful evidence welling in his eyes to the contrary. He wished he wasn’t so close to Thor, that he would not be able to see Loki crying, but he couldn’t bring himself to step back and turn away completely.

 

“Well,” Thor said with conviction, face set, “I’m going to be your brother. If you don’t want to be mine, then that’s your choice.”

 

“So be it.”

 

* * *

 

Loki had needed a break after their last conversation. He told Thor he was tired, and had settled down on the chaise for a bit of the food they’d brought and to rest his voice. Truthfully, he was struggling with being so forcefully shut down in his arguments by Thor. He needed time to come up with a better one.

 

It didn’t take long, however, before he was back in full swing, sitting on the chaise hugging his legs, keeping his distance this time. Just in case.

 

“While we’re at it,” Loki’s voice had sunk to a growl, defensive as he now was, “why didn’t you stop me?”

 

Thor’s response had the same sad lightness Loki had grown so used to hearing directed towards him. “Stop you from what? We could talk another thousand years about all the instances like that.”

 

“On Midgard, on that mountain, or whatever it was. Obviously. You just asked me to come home. You gave me a choice. Why.”

 

“You know why, Loki-”

 

“It doesn’t matter. I made the wrong choice, yes, but so did you!”

 

Thor narrowed his eyes. Loki saw his brother hiding fear, but he refused to abandon his assault. “You could have prevented so much destruction. You could have taken me. Helped me against Thanos, as I would’ve been betraying him. Or at least restrained me. You would’ve been helping Midgard in the process. If not for me, you could have done it for them.”

 

“I tried. Sometimes, I wonder if you even know how stubborn you are.” A pause. “There was nothing I could do. You were gone. You said it yourself.” His voice was still far too calm.

 

Loki answered his restraint with heightened rage. “Nonsense, Thor! Lies upon lies. And to me, of all? Will you never see that their blood is on your hands, too? You are guilty as I am.”

 

Thor scowled. “So you would’ve helped me stop the Chitauri if I’d only said something different? It’s not about that, Loki. Your stories are feeble. I can’t believe you’ve even convinced yourself with them. Intention matters, brother. We both know this: you never cared whether humans lived or died. You made that very clear already. This was never only about you and I.  _ You  _ made that so.”

 

_ Well… correct. _

 

Loki was reeling, trying not to feel chastised when Thor had so efficiently found the deepest part of his motivations, just as he had found his fears before. He  _ knew _ there existed no universe in which he would’ve ended up helping Thor. He swallowed hard. The words hurt him more than he thought Thor was capable of. They reminded Loki that this was indeed  _ his _ punishment and not merely an excuse to berate Thor for days unending. He sat back down upon the chaise and sunk his head onto a pale hand.

 

“Fine. I suppose... I wanted you to convince me, back there on Midgard. To try harder than you did.”  _ Even if your success was impossible. _

 

“How? How could I have?”

 

“It’s not about that!  _ Intention matters, brother.  _ I wanted to see you try. To see that you cared, that you were capable of doing the right thing even when I wasn’t. Isn’t that supposed to be your responsibility? Being better than me?”

 

Thor sighed. “I’ve no response to that.” The waves crashing against the rocks around them seemed to grow quieter, making the silence even more crushing.

 

“‘Course you don’t. Persuasion was never your strong suit.” Loki looked back up at his brother. “You cemented my fate that day. You are the reason we’re here.” Loki knew it was a weak comeback. But Thor had seen through him, so why try and build up the glass wall any more when it would be demolished so easily? Easier to just… give up. 

 

“Is it? My inability to prevent you from doing what you clearly wanted to do means that all of this is  _ my _ fault?” Thor raised his voice, losing his temper. The muscles in his arms tensed menacingly; his spine straightened against the plinth. “Loki, you know I’ve never been able to control you. Shame on me for not trying harder, or shame on you for never learning?”

 

_ Ugh.  _ Apparently Thor wasn’t ready to move on.

 

Loki laid back with a sigh, contemplating whether he had any more leverage left. When he spoke again, his voice was quiet. “Shame on both of us, I suppose. For being exactly what we are, and nothing more. I suppose we are just... incompatible.” He stared into the sky beyond Thor’s head. There seemed to be fewer stars out than normal.

 

Thor let the silence rest for a while. He had relaxed, and his arms hung heavy in the shackles above. If the spell holding them on the island needed what Thor said it needed, they were getting nowhere. No blood, no bonding. Only distance. Loki’s eyes traveled back down, past each constellation he couldn’t name, to rest on Thor’s eyes. The god of thunder looked half-ready to cry.

 

“Nothing?” Loki asked. “Need I remind you that we’ve a duty to ourselves here?” 

 

“I know,” Thor said. “I’m waiting for you to stop whining and start actually doing something.”

 

“Waiting for me to start? Haven’t you been listening?” His voice had grown breathless, exhausted of rage as he grasped for it anyway. “I’ve been... I don’t know,  _ baring _ myself to you, exposing all of my  _ problems _ for fucking hours now, and that’s not enough? What am I supposed to be doing?”

 

“I didn’t ask to be your counselor, brother.” He paused long enough for Loki to fill in the blank. “I asked to see your worst, most vile, horrible impulses. The ones I saw in abundance on Midgard. I wanted you to take them out on me. I wanted to see the darkest part of you. And so far, I’ve only seen you  _ wallowing. _ ”

 

Whatever Thor thought he was doing, it was working. The depleted pit of molten anger flooded full again, and Loki stood and rushed to where Thor was still sitting, chained, and squatted down, gripping his neck, twisting his head to the side.

 

“Is that right,” Loki growled, eyes alight. “And what do you call this, then?”

 

“This is better,” Thor grunted, airway half-closed by Loki’s grip. “Just... just get it over with. Give me what you think I deserve.”

 

Loki squeezed harder, then abruptly let go. He turned his back on Thor.

 

“No.”

 

Thor coughed. “No? What do you want, then? An apology? For not being your conscience all the time?” Loki didn’t respond. “I know you want to do it. You’ve always wanted to. Just hurt me, Loki. Take all your anger out, make me feel how you feel. Do it.” 

 

His voice was controlled, but Loki felt the boiling underneath it. Thor really did want this. Loki clenched his fists.

 

Thor chuckled. “Did you not hear me? Do it! Take the whip and just  _ do it _ !” 

 

“No.”

 

Thor’s voice grew to a bellow. “You’re too weak, then? You can’t even give it to me when I’m asking for it?”

 

Loki wheeled back around to look at him. “No, Thor! It is  _ you _ who is weak! You want this punishment  _ your  _ way when we both know exactly how much of a beating you can endure. Too much. Your scars mean  _ nothing _ to me. I know I can’t hurt you in that way, and you know it, too.”

 

Even as he said it, though, Loki knew he was lying. He would have to hurt Thor eventually, spill his blood for the hollow plinth to suck up as sacrifice for the enchantment that required it. But Loki wanted that sacrifice to be deserved. He wanted Thor begging for the mercy of the whip if only it might save him from hearing Loki’s words. Thor needed to earn it.

 

Loki needed to earn it, too, though. He would need to be far more caustic than he had managed so far.

 

Thor sighed, avoiding Loki’s gaze, staring out into the thickening mist instead. “Fine. You’re right.”

 

Loki exhaled a humorless laugh.

 

Thor didn’t return it. Instead, he spoke a declaration. “You’re going to have to try much harder, then, if you are to hurt me. Prove to me that I don’t love you. That I shouldn’t love you. This is your challenge, brother. I don’t think you can do it.”

 

_ Bah.  _ Had he not just spent hours pointing out each time Thor had let him down? Did giving up on him count as love, too?

 

“I already did.”

 

“You didn’t! Loki, can’t you see? I wanted you to make your own choices. I wanted to trust you to be the man I know you could be. If you cannot see that that is love, then you do not know what love is... and I can’t teach it to you.”

 

Loki looked down, Thor’s words of love had struck an idea. Something he had forgotten; a part of him Thor had never seen before. He didn’t know whether it counted as wicked. And yet… his options were running short.

 

He never questioned his wisdom in hiding it, not when it was so much easier to  _ lie _ , to pretend it didn’t exist. Being anything other than what you  _ born as _ wasn’t exactly exalted in Asgardian culture. It was frustrating, because the way Loki saw it, he was being exactly who he was. It didn’t take him long to figure out that it was an embarrassing trait, a secret to hide and feel ashamed for. And so he did. The feelings rotted inside him, ignored and neglected, until he had all but forgotten they were ever there. But now seemed the perfect time to let it see light again. At the very least, he might shock Thor.

 

And, truth be told, he just really missed his other skin.

 

“What of this then, Thor? Do you still love me when I am a part of me you’ve never seen?”

 

“What are you talking about? I thought we already-” Thor lifted his head back up to look at Loki, who smiled deeply, stretching her shoulders back and running her fingers through her hair. Reveling in being able to show Thor the long-dormant side of her she had pushed so deep down.

 

“Surprise.”

 

“Loki, who are you?” He paused, a frown cutting his face. “Why?”

 

Loki raised her eyebrows. “What? Isn’t it obvious? I don’t even look that much different, for Hel’s sake.”

 

Thor only responded with confusion. “No? Loki, I’ve seen you shapeshift a thousand times. What are you trying to prove?”

 

She pursed her lips. “This isn’t shapeshifting. I mean... it is, but it’s not an illusion. It’s not what you’ve seen before. This is me, Thor. Still me. Just as much me as the me you’re used to seeing.”

 

Thor’s expression softened. “And?”

 

“And? Aren’t you supposed to hate me for it, or something? Is this not  _ wrong? _ ”

 

“Why would I? You’re still my brother, regardless of what you look like.”

 

Loki’s temper was rising again. “I’m not, don’t you see? This is more than just what I  _ look like _ . I am not just your  _ brother _ . It has always been this way.” Emotion started rising within her as she thought back to so many years ago, when she was just figuring out the scope of her magic as a child. When she had learned. She exhaled loudly. “I expected a reaction, at least,” she seethed.

 

“For me to hate you for it? I told you, that’s not possible.” His expression mainly looked sad, but Loki could detect the veiled interest in his gaze over her changed body. “Why didn’t you tell me? If this is you... why did you kept this hidden for so long?”

 

She could see crystalline tears welling in the corners of Thor’s eyes, because deep down he knew the answer. But her own were dry from the years spent forcing them away.

 

“Odin saw. When we were children. I didn’t really know what it meant, back then. How could I have. I just thought it was another thing I could do with magic, that I just... happened to feel just as much like me in that form as in the other. I didn’t think it was a big deal. Odin disagreed.” She didn’t elaborate further.

 

“Well. I don’t. Disagree, that is.”

 

Loki wrested her eyes up to meet Thor’s. He wore the tenderest expression she had ever seen grace his brute features. 

 

His voice matched it. “I still love you. Nothing will change that. Especially not this,” he assured her. He looked almost… glad to have seen it. Grateful, even.

 

And Loki felt nothing beyond bitterness. She turned her back on him once more. “You shouldn’t! If not for what I am, then for what I’ve done. Haven’t we established that?”

 

“No. I love you, and that will never change.”

 

There it was again; she was covering up the warm, soothing feelings from Thor’s acceptance with a blanket of blind rage. Who was he to forget her wickedness? Who was  _ she _ to expose by choice a weakness to her now enemy... who had exploited it in full to make her feel  _ thankful _ for him? She gritted her teeth. Desperate times called for desperate measures. 

 

Feeling slightly disgusted with herself, but resigned to thinking it might be the only thing that would convince Thor enough, Loki changed her skin again. Black hair turned brown, her features lost the severity of Loki’s, her Midgardian clothes rested on her frame rather awkwardly. She looked down, ensuring she hadn’t missed anything. Loki was now a perfect copy of that mortal woman, Jane, the last time Thor had seen her in that dusty, desolate desert town. 

 

Time to lay it on  _ thick. _

 

“You love me? Really? Oh, Thor! I’m ecstatic to hear you say that! I love you, too!” Her voice sounded annoyingly familiar coming out of Loki’s throat. She turned around with a flourish, arms out in mock-embrace of Thor, heart alight with wicked humor. 

 

It hurt, it hurt to be in Jane’s skin, knowing that this was the only way Loki might ever be capable of Thor’s deserved love. But it was worth it for the look on his face. Had Loki not known it so well, it would have been indecipherable. Equal parts adoration, derision, bewilderment. 

 

“Wh-what?”

 

“It’s me. Your true love.” It barely sounded like sarcasm in Jane’s invariably sincere intonation. “You know. The girl you abandoned. On Earth. Who never wanted to see you again because of it. But,” she shrugged, “all of that is mended, now that I’m here on Asgard! We can be together again!”

 

Thor’s jaw was set, but he couldn’t look away from Loki’s cruel charade as Thor’s ex-consort. Loki again saw fear in his eyes, and couldn’t help prying further into it.

 

“That is... you still love me, don’t you?” She pressed her lips together, making them quiver. “Thor, please. Tell me you love me. Or else... I guess I’ll just have to assume that you don’t, anymore.” Jane sighed. “Maybe you never did,” Loki stage-murmured to herself, just for the show of it. 

 

Thor again took the bait, entranced by Loki’s exaggerated act. His mouth fell open, like he was trying to say something and couldn’t think of the words to use.

 

Loki constructed her most downtrodden, sorrowful expression. “Is that why you didn’t call for me? I know you were on Earth. I saw you on TV. You didn’t even call me. I missed you. Did you even  _ think  _ about me?” Loki magicked tears into her eyes, and sat down gently in front of Thor, crossing her legs. She rested a small hand on his leg. “All you have to do is tell me you love me.” 

 

Thor said nothing. 

 

Jane exhaled heavily, and looked down into her lap. “I understand. You love your brother more than me. You chose him.” She stifled a laugh, instead, a tear fell onto the black ground.

 

Thor snapped, shrugging away from Loki’s touch. “Not funny,” he muttered.

 

“Not funny? Thor, I’m not trying to… I’m just telling the truth. You hurt me. You used me. I... I want to love you. I still do. But it’s hard for me. You’ve caused me so much pain, and you claim to be a hero?” Loki wasn’t sure if she was still pretending to be Jane or speaking her own feelings. She didn’t want to know. “You’re nothing more than a selfish, prideful, arrogant fool.”

 

Thor tried to lash out at the Jane copy, but the chain prevented his hand from getting closer than a foot from Loki’s head. She played affronted, leaning back, cowering away.

 

“See? You’re poor-tempered, violent, quick to anger, and I can’t believe I ever loved you.” She sniffed. “They all see the good in you. All those people you saved... they think you did it for them. I know they’re wrong. You did it for you.”

 

“No. I did it for you.”

 

Loki raised an eyebrow.

 

“Not Jane. You,” Thor concluded.

 

Loki grit her teeth. She hadn’t exactly thought through to the end of her little monologue.

 

But Thor was having none of it. He looked stronger, now, more assured. In any form, Thor only saw Loki.

 

“You were jealous.” Thor’s voice struck deeper than his fist could have. 

 

Loki looked away, standing back up, leaving his closeness for the comfort of the chaise. She sat back down and crossed her arms, kneading Jane’s short fingernails into her bare skin. 

 

“I wasn’t.”

 

“Cut your defensive foolishness. Why try to lie to me, Loki? You told me everything I needed to hear. I never meant-”

 

“Never meant for what, Thor? For me to see how you felt about her? To imagine you upon her body, to feel your skin under her touch? No, you didn’t. I did.”

 

“Loki, don’t put your words in my mouth. Why must you be so damned masochistic? Can you not see that I loved - that I love - the both of you? Just... differently. Maybe you’re not capable of that, but I am not like you.”

 

“Oh, that’s rich.” Her voice was starting to sound more like Loki’s again. “Your love is just so boundless, isn’t it? While I cannot even fathom what it is to love one person, because I don’t even know what it bloody means. Is that what you think of me?”

 

Thor was growing agitated again. “That’s not what I meant!”

 

“Oh, isn’t it? What did you mean, then?”

 

“It’s... it’s different.”

 

“Because you’re  _ forced _ to love me? Because we’re family, and as much as you try to distance yourself, you just can’t get rid of me?” Loki could no longer look at him.

 

“Is that how you feel about me, Loki?” Thor offered.

 

The question stunned her for a minute.

 

She knew she could end it, turn her back and stop responding, leave Thor to brood on how much he had hurt her. Because he  _ had _ . Another plan backfired spectacularly, leaving her fake tears turning to real ones, blood boiling as Thor sat there in chains all innocent and spotless. Sickening. She should leave.

 

But that was the old Loki. This Loki had only rage, and the freedom to use it.

 

She dropped the Jane disguise and grabbed the whip from its place in the saddlebag, next to Mjolnir. Thor’s eyes widened, but the look in them was not fear. He had been waiting for this. He knew the whip would hurt no less with the female Loki wielding it. Loki intended on proving him right.

 

“Stand up. Turn around.”

 

Thor complied, the chains twisting awkwardly. They were long enough for him to face the pillar but too short for the position to be comfortable. Loki didn’t care. She only didn’t want to see his face.

 

Rage burning her veins, she studied his broad, laughably muscular back, deciding where to begin, and making him wait for the inevitable sting. 

 

“Well?” His voice was a controlled calm. 

 

She gripped the whip’s handle harder. “Beg for it.”

 

“What?”

 

“You heard me. You asked for this. It could have been me in your place. You know that was what I was expecting. What I deserved. But you just couldn’t bear to do that, could you?” Here she was again, monologuing when she should’ve been acting. Maybe it was she who was the coward. “Tell me you want this. Make me listen.”

 

Thor grunted a sound that almost seemed like a choke. “I want this.”

 

“Louder!”

 

“I want this! Do it!”

 

The words chilled her blood, the ice coursing through her igniting every nerve ending. The mist froze on her skin. She was alive. She was moving, throwing her arm forward with all her might, before she had consciously decided to act.

 

_ One. _

 

Thor’s recoil was swiftly tempered, controlled before Loki could see his pain..

 

_ two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine _

 

She would need to start counting by tens. The movement was too easy. The whip was an extension of her arm. Her muscles were sculpted especially for this.

 

_ Nineteen. _

 

His head slumped against the pillar. 

 

_ Twenty-nine. _

 

She heard another choke escape his throat.

 

_ Thirty-nine. _

 

This time, it sounded more like a laugh.

 

_ Forty-nine. _

 

Loki’s aim was dead-even each time. Thor’s shirt split open from the impact of the whip; it hung listlessly from his shoulders. Underneath it, the welts were starting to gleam red.

 

_ Fifty-nine. _

 

Her cheek twitched. A smile trying to escape.

 

_ Sixty-nine. _

 

She could no longer hear the crack of leather on skin over the crashing of waves around.

 

_ Seventy-nine. _

 

She saw blood.

 

_ Eighty-nine. _

 

A drop fell to the ground. She stopped. Thor was shaking, now, trying to contain the very thing Loki was trying to suck out of him.

 

“No more,” he whispered. Loki couldn’t tell if it was a question or command. She chose to defy it, either way.

 

_ Ninety. _

 

A crack of lightning split the air, and Loki recoiled in pain, dropping the whip; all her muscles reset to paralysis momentarily by the shock. She gasped, frantically trying to make her lungs work again.

 

The lightning had fried the leather whip to a blackened crisp, but it could not have come from the cloudless emptiness above, no, it came directly from Thor, who was now kneeling, forehead pressed against the pillar. The lines the whip had drawn on his upper back were closed up, all pink and shiny, cauterized by the charge. 

 

Loki’s hands were trembling. She slowly paced around to the other side of the plinth, where she might see Thor’s image projected through the crystal into some distorted concept of her brother. She gazed into it apprehensively.

 

She could not see his face, only blistering, blue-white light playing through the inside of the pillar, reflecting off its faceted interior surfaces, near-blinding her. The runes glowed silver and sparkling upon its exterior. Loki squeezed her eyes shut. Thor’s ragged panting was still audible from the opposite side. 

 

“Thor?” she managed to ask.

 

The light blinding her flicked off, revealing Thor’s exhausted, warped face through the crystal. Loki rushed back to his side, dropping to her knees, gripping his shoulders. He slowly turned his head to face her. 

 

“Loki,” he breathed. Still alive. 

 

A weight lifted inside of her. He was smiling.

 

So he  _ had _ wanted this. Enjoyed it, even. No doubt he found it as a confirmation that his plan was working; that he was actually getting to Loki. The burned whip on the ground was the evidence. It would not heal as Thor’s scars would.

 

She returned his smile and stepped back. She hadn’t expected to feel this relieved, or as suddenly peaceful, but for once she didn’t fight the feeling. “I think that’s enough for today.”

 

Thor twisted back around and sat on the ground. There was no sign of his blood below.  _ Great _ . Loki would have to do this again to appease the spell. If not something worse.

 

“I think so, too. Look.” He motioned for Loki to turn around, towards the outside of the island, towards Asgard proper. 

 

After days in the mist, she didn’t think it possible. Garm had reached near the end of its orbit on Asgard’s living side, and somehow, its setting tonight was enough to burn away some of the clouds surrounding them. The result was a kaleidoscopic display of water-refracted rainbows shimmering over the entire island, almost blinding in their brightness. Loki nearly gasped at the sight. 

 

Thor had done this. The lightning was to blame. There was no other possibility.

 

The rainbows swirled around in a dizzying array of light. Loki found herself speechless, taken aback by the brightness and color, and could vaguely feel a well filling inside of her, some unknown substance coaxed out from the depths by the sight of wild beauty upon this barren, dead island. The mist had taken on a different hue under the gaze of the star; rather than the foreboding obfuscation she had seen it as before, it now seemed magical, a forge for delightful unknowns hidden within. It was unlike anything she’d seen before.

 

She knew Thor could sense her wonder even with her back turned. She felt his, too, though it tasted more of pride. He was of this place, and she was not. Maybe this sensation lived within him as he lived within it.

 

“Seems like a reward, doesn’t it?”

 

She turned back around. His eyes were wide and his smile warm. But more arresting was the sight above his gentle face; the crystal pyramid had become a thing of the mist, amorphous and full of the spectrum surrounding them. Each rune glowed a different shade, no longer the silver they were under the sting of Thor’s lightning. And the thunder god himself at the center of it all; shining, beautiful, glistening with condensed vapor and sacrosanct might. 

 

Loki wouldn’t let him know that she thought of the god that way.

 

“A reward for what? Surely a few gentle welts aren’t enough to consider me drained of evil.”

 

“No, I don’t think we’re done here. But we’ve made progress.”

 

“Maybe you’re right.” Not a trace of her barbed tongue was detectable.  _ Shame, Loki. _

 

She looked down. The black, porous rock, slick and saturated with water as it was, didn’t seem to reflect the near-blinding starlight. It only absorbed. A rainbow in miniature lived within each vesicle. The darkness was a respite from so much good.

 

And maybe, a respite was exactly what she needed. What the both of them needed. She could come back in full force in the morning, refilled with ways to hurt him once more. By then she’d certainly have caught her breath that Thor and the island had stolen away from her. She’d be replenished with her clever words and biting wit. Surely, one single night off would make it sharper and fresher come morning. 

 

Yes. That was it. A respite.

 

One night of kindness to make the pain more brutal when it finally came. One night to convince Thor he was doing something right so that when she did something wrong again, it would hurt him more.

 

A good idea.

 

When Garm finally disappeared behind the waterfall horizon, the brothers at peace fell asleep, satiated and content.


	4. Chapter 4

The cold and pearly mist had returned the next morning along with Loki’s bitter mood. The rest had been nice, yes; he had dreamt of prisms and prisons and melting lava-rock, crystals devolving into amorphous blobs in the heat and pressure from the faceted, perfect stones they started as. _How poetic._ The geography of the island was already affecting him. Even so, the cold settling into his bones felt nice. It felt like a reminder of what he and Thor were truly there for. And it soothed his body in ways he wasn’t expecting to need.

 

Loki sat up, feeling the ache in his back and shoulder from the force he had generated within the lean, dense muscles last night. It was a deep-seated pain, one he knew might make him stronger, but now it only felt like lightning-quick tendrils of sensation traveling down his nerves, down his spine, down the length of his arm, every time he made such a minor movement as breathing. He wondered whether Thor held that particular reminder even worse.

 

He’d rather not think about the ache it had given him mentally. Even so, he knew it was probably worse than a few sore muscles.

 

Loki was at a loss as to where to go, so to speak, from here. They had explored much already, and yet Loki didn’t feel too different at all. Sure, he had exposed truths to Thor he had never planned to, and indulging his near-forgotten fluidity was more affecting than he had realized. He had told more truth in two days than perhaps all the rest of his life, and Thor had taken each reveal in stride. Exposing himself in this way was a novel strangeness to the liesmith. He didn’t _entirely_ hate it. Rather. he intended to do that more often, if he could.

 

This was all good. But he still felt like himself. If Thor had siphoned off any of his badness, Loki certainly wasn’t aware of it. There had to be something _more_.

 

He gazed down at Thor’s sleeping face; even through the hazy peace of his never-restless slumber he looked unbreakable. He had asked for Loki’s worst, and Loki had let him down. Nothing Loki had come up with so far was enough to convince his brother that his wickedness was real, that he wasn’t simply playing contrarian borne of some jealous or immature impulse. It was frustrating, really, to be unconvincing in this way when Loki knew it was truth beyond any doubt. _He_ was the one who felt the darkness inside of him, not Thor. What Thor saw was sweetly filtered through that rose-colored lens he wore at all times; how was it fair that everyone else knew Loki as the liar when Thor’s entire worldview was distilled through some wonderful, nice, good-natured distortion? Thor was the problem. Not Loki.

 

Thor the brave, the powerful, the good. The incorruptible. The god so convinced that some foreign evil spirit was possessing his brother that he offered to exorcise the demon himself. Why couldn’t he see that Loki simply was who he was? Villainous when it suited him, apathetic when it didn’t. The ultimate opportunist, driven by some mischievous desire to forever do… what? Now that he had the chance to do whatever he desired, he no longer knew what that was. He was not used to freedom, only the yearning for it. And now that he had it, and such a willing victim to inflict it upon, he found himself drawing a blank. What was Loki when he was unfettered?

 

_Doesn’t matter,_ he thought. Introspection was only for those who were trying to get better. Loki was happy just the way he was. Thor had asked for impulse, not analysis. And Loki wasn’t being struck by anything, save the desire to prove himself right.

 

Or… maybe instead, he should prove himself wrong. Not against his true nature; no, there was no use in trying to see his deeds as anything less than evil. He lied, he hurt, he took things he should not take. That was inarguable. But there was one topic he hadn’t so far breached upon this wretched place, and that was Thor himself.

 

Digging into Loki’s brain had been insofar fruitless, but maybe a different approach could work. He only had to entertain the possibility that it was Thor who needed the psychoanalysis. Maybe Loki could uncover weaknesses within the impenetrable body that neither him nor Thor knew existed. That might actually get them somewhere.

 

Loki smiled, the wet chill of the island air filling his lungs. This could be his first ever selfless act.

 

He would come prepared this time. Finally have a foolproof plan for tormenting his brother with inalienable truths, and he knew exactly how. He could predict each point Thor would make, each one of his strengths that Loki would duly twist and convince that they were really weaknesses. Today, he got to be the mocking, annoying, corrupting Loki. Infect Thor with his own doubts and fears and self-hatred so that Thor could understand what it meant to think himself terrible and embrace and _love_ all that made him so. Today was a day to make Thor a little bit more like Loki. Maybe then he’d understand.

 

Whatever enchantment was upon them on this place required equanimity, so Loki would do nothing less than fulfill that need in a way that better suited him. Thor had asked for his worst tendencies, so it was only fitting that Loki would expose Thor’s own as well.

 

Loki sat on the chaise, legs crossed, watching Thor doze and coming up with airtight arguments for each of his inevitable defenses until he saw his brother stirring in the murky half-light. He didn’t need to wake him today. He preferred to make the most of his time to be alone in his mind.

 

* * *

 

It was sprinkling icy needles of rain when Thor finally woke; the god of thunder opened his eyes to a good-natured expression upon Loki’s kind face and a large jug of water being pressed onto his mouth. Thor took it gratefully, gulping down half a liter of the cold liquid at once, then returned Loki’s grin.

 

“Thanks. What’s the plan for today? Discussing all of your issues with our father? Searching for someone else to blame your unhappiness on? Convincing me that the Midgardians deserved your rule? Surprise me, if you still can, brother.”

 

“I thought we’d do something different, actually. I think we’ve exhausted the topic of my history, at least for now. How’s your back?”

 

“Wonderful. Doesn’t hurt a bit,” Thor said. He was being entirely honest.

 

Loki sneered. His pain had only grown worse the longer he sat waiting for Thor to wake. “Good. Wouldn’t want to cause any lasting damage.” Thor raised an eyebrow. “Oh, right. That’s exactly why we’re here, isn’t it? Changing me permanently? That’s what you wanted.”

 

“Yes,” Thor replied brightly. “So what, then, are you going to subject me to now? Did your dreams remind you of any more… repressed problems? Other than what you’ve already revealed. Now that I think about it, it’s the most truth I’ve ever heard out of you.” _He knows you too well._ “Come on, Loki, you’ll have to figure something else out if you’re to ever leave here.”

 

“I did, actually. But it occurred to me that we haven’t really talked about _you_ yet. It’s all been rather one-sided. I was thinking you could… I don’t know, give me some ideas, enlighten me with your goodness.”

 

Thor frowned, but quickly stifled any worry. “I suppose that seems… fair.”

 

“Good. It won’t be hard. I always did spend a lot of time thinking about your weaknesses. Think of it as constructive criticism, same thing you’re trying to do to me. I can do you a favor. You only have to ask.” He paused, but Thor said nothing. He looked like he was biting his tongue. “No response? Norns, Thor. This is supposed to be a conversation, not a speech. That requires your input.”

 

“You don’t think I’ve already paid enough mind to my own shortcomings?”

 

Loki laughed. “Of course I do! Just not to me, and I think it would help me if you demonstrated. So I can learn what I’m expected to do, in terms of this whole ‘ridding myself of evil’ thing. I need your guidance, Thor,” he said, in his most sickeningly faux-sincere intonation. “I haven’t forgotten how you used to be. It wasn’t long ago. And now you’re… better, is that right? So I’d like to know how. I think I have an idea of where to start. We could try recognizing your weaknesses, and explore how you turned them into strengths. Let’s see. Arrogance, selfishness, warmongering...” He looked at the sky in mock confusion. “Were we talking about you or me?”

 

“I don’t see how your joking around is helping.”

 

“Oh, I’m being entirely serious, Thor. You _fixed_ all of those things, didn’t you? You learned your lessons by helping other people, is that right? The way I see it, I only need to learn, and then I can be better too. Doesn’t that sound great? And how better to learn than by helping _you_?”

 

“Helping me with what? I’m not perfect, Loki, but-”

 

“I can’t teach you anything? Oh, I get it. You’re just so much better than me that you’ve nothing to learn from your dastardly brother. _Hmph_. That sounds like arrogance to me,” Loki sneered, all comedy gone from his voice.

 

“I didn’t say that. You-”

 

“Tell me, Thor, what would you consider your greatest strength?”

 

Thor looked somewhat surprised at being asked this question, but Loki knew he wouldn’t ruin his chances of seeing what he thought Loki was truly made of by refusing to answer. He puffed up his chest slightly, proud. The words came to him quickly. Thor knew his own mettle.

 

“I see the good in people.”

 

Loki had predicted his answer to the word. “Indeed. Isn’t that what we’re here for? Seeing the good in me?” He let the stewing sarcasm boil over.

 

“If you’d let me, you could see it, too.”

 

“And you’ve had every chance to do so. I haven’t stopped you; I haven’t needed to. For all your talk of claiming to love me, we’ve done a whole lot of pointing out my flaws.” Loki paused, waiting to see if Thor would argue against that, too, but he was silent, so Loki mimicked his demeanor, haughty and self-satisfied. “I have made a lot of progress. If you call progress not lying about my shortcomings. The thing is, I just don’t see you doing the same thing. It’s unfair that I am being honest and you are not.”

 

“What do you mean?”

 

“You’re lying, Thor. And lying to yourself, the worst kind of lie. Your strength is not a strength at all. Seeing the good in people is not a _good_ quality. Seems more like a weak one, to me. Makes you vulnerable.”

 

Thor sighed. “I didn’t expect you to understand.”

 

Loki played innocent. “Really? Why’s that?”

 

“People like it when you believe in them.”

 

Loki waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, obviously, but you don’t have to _mean_ it. I’ve been doing that for centuries.”

 

“That’s exactly what I meant by you not understanding.”

 

“Guess you’re right then,” Loki said with a shrug. “Am I correct to assume, however, that your little gift of only seeing the good extends to mean old Loki?”

 

Thor stared him dead in the eye. “I honed it on you.”

 

Affronted, Loki disguised his genuine surprise with a laugh. “So you’ve been seeing the worst of me for centuries, too, then. So much that you’ve perfected the art of looking past it. Is my logic here correct? Surely, to be able to see one side of me you must also see the other, and I’m full aware that it’s not a perfect balance. Must’ve been quite a challenge. I’m so glad to hear that I could be your whetstone.”

 

Thor rested his head back on the pillar, exasperated at Loki’s sudden anger. “It’s not like that. Believe me, Loki, it wasn’t because I hated you. I never saw you as a tool. Only as my brother.”

 

“Then why?” Loki refused to acknowledge the tears welling in his eyes once more.

 

“Because I loved you so much. I couldn't help it. I saw every facet of you and I learned how to love each and every one of them equally. Call it self-preservation, but I could never help seeing what you didn’t. I could never hate you. It’s not in my nature.”

 

_Derailed, again._ The rain increased, ruining the velvet chaise even more than it was and running down the plinth to soak Thor and drain into its center. Loki could barely see his brother now, and all the better for it. At least this way, Thor could confuse his tears for rain.

 

“And look where that got you, Thor! Chained on some barren, isolated sore of an island, whipped and berated, after I hurt every single person you’ve ever loved! Some strength it is to sacrifice a realm or two for one irredeemable wretch.”

 

“Loki, were you… trying to convince me?”

 

“Convince you of what?” Loki was good and upset now; another strategy out the window, another of his schemes Thor had thwarted so deftly. Love had let him down once more.

 

“That you were all bad. Are all bad. That I’m wrong to see what I see, that your goodness doesn’t exist, that it’s a fabricated thing I use to convince myself not to hate you. Was this all for me?”

 

“No! This is just who I am. Don’t you understand that?.”

 

Thor started shaking his head, disbelieving. “Fine. I hear you. But if this is really all you have to be angry about, I think you’re-”

 

“Overreacting?” Loki stood up abruptly, pacing over to Thor, putting a hand on his neck, gripping harder than he had the last time. “That’s exactly what I’m doing.”

 

Thor’s inhale was ragged and difficult, and all the worse for the rain now pouring down between their faces, but he wasn’t giving it up. “Is this your worst?” His gaze into Loki’s eyes was blinding. Loki almost saw flashes of the lightning he had seen in them last night. But this time, it wasn’t startling or repulsing him with its relentless charge. It was almost as if Thor’s polarity had shifted, and Loki was now uncontrollably drawn in, unable to tear himself away from Thor’s unbreakable power.

 

Unable, for whatever reason, to kill his brother, Loki had only one choice left. The most wicked, amoral act he could muster. It wasn’t desire, Loki told himself. Only desperation.

 

“You want the worst, Thor? Then take it!” he cried, and set free the last of himself, leaning in to ruin them both.

 

Their lips connected and Loki heard the world breaking around them. His very self was being ripped in two, his freed soul was falling into the chasm underneath their connected bodies, molten rock burning every fiber of his being in its liquid embrace. He saw rainbows and galaxies dancing in the vapor and blackness all around. He felt nothing, save Thor, in the clutch of his hand and his mouth.

 

Surely, surely, this would convince Thor when nothing else had.

 

Loki grabbed the chain restraining his brother’s right arm with his other hand, afraid that if he relinquished contact, he would melt and cease bodily inhabitance forever. Thor writhed beneath the grip on his neck but could not break away; Loki was filled to the brim with the satisfaction of victory, for he had done the most terrible thing imaginable and Thor was unable to ignore it, to escape Loki’s wrath and vindication, to pretend that Loki had any purity or goodness within him. This was what his brother wanted. Loki kissed him like he had never another before, with rage and ferocity unbridled and little craving for whatever _pleasure_ was, biting Thor’s lip and sucking his tongue with relished perversion.

 

He hoped Thor hated it. He hoped Thor hated him.

 

This was not love, but the opposite. This evil felt good. He was breaking Thor, and he might’ve been breaking himself.

 

Some voice within him begged Loki to stop, to pull away, for he had made his point already and there was no good in continuing on. They could not return from this regardless. But Thor’s taste in his mouth, the trembling of goosebump-spangled skin under his touch, the chafe of metal in his hand, the oxygen-deprived breath filling his lungs all prevented him from doing such thing as stopping. This was sin. Loki was sin. How could he deny the very thing that gave him shape?

 

He felt Thor trying to pull his mouth away and Loki whimpered into it, encroaching upon him ever-harder. He could feel Thor’s fight in his bones, all muscles tight and burgeoning from the strain of pulling against the chains binding him. Thor had been convinced, and this was his reaction. Loki was evil. This was undeniable confirmation.

 

Proven continuously, because Loki didn’t want to stop. He was enjoying this trespass far too much. He stumbled into Thor, pressing up against him, deepening the kiss until he lost track of how long he’d spent inside Thor’s mouth. And then, Thor stopped fighting.

 

Loki pulled away, wrenching his eyes down, away from Thor’s so that he could not read his face.

 

“Was that enough?” Loki breathed. He hoped the answer would be no. He was drunk, uncontrollably mad with this power, this surrender, this... no, not lust. Maybe something like it. Bloodlust, perhaps, but nothing that reeked of love. And Loki was not content to stop giving into it.

 

The rain had grown ever stronger and the brothers were now both soaked through with the freezing water. Clean. But the sun was still gone; they were not out of this yet. Loki almost stepped away. But restraint was never in his nature.

 

He exhaled raggedly and conjured a muzzle, identical to the one he’d worn such a short time ago, and slapped it on Thor’s spit-slicked and bite-reddened mouth with a strident, metallic clasp. He let himself look up. Thor’s eyes demanded his attention. _Enough_ , they said.

 

Loki only smiled, a sick, sinister thing. “Do you believe me, now?” How very Loki of him to only ask questions he knew the answers to when his target was unable to respond for himself.

 

Still, he could not tell whether he saw assent or protest in Thor’s eyes. Maybe it was neither. Maybe it was fear; his stance did look rather meek now, or at least as much as those mighty muscles could be diminished. How fascinating it was that it was only _love_ that could break the mighty Thor.

 

“I think I’ve figured out how to get to you, Thor. Revulsion. I’m good at that.” Loki languidly traced the intricate patterns on the muzzle with his index. Thor shuddered. “I’ve barely even touched you yet. What shall happen when I continue, then?”

 

Loki could not tell whether the distant peal of thunder setting his ears a-ringing was imagined or not. Thor, however, remained paralyzed.

 

He dragged the finger lower, onto Thor’s neck, skin still frightfully warm despite the chill outside. He played around the collar of Thor’s drenched shirt, slipping just underneath to tangle in the knots of his chest hair, and back out to continue downwards. This time, Loki would not tear his eyes away from Thor’s, holding his gaze even as Thor fought to detach from what was happening. Loki would not let him, not with his other hand still gripping his neck. He wanted to know the exact moment when it was too much for his brother to handle.

 

He moved in closer, breathing down Thor’s neck, listening to him struggle to draw breath through his nose in the too-humid, salty atmosphere of the island. The thunder was unmistakable when Loki stopped circling Thor’s nipple with a thumb to brush down the side of his ribcage unnervingly gently. This time, Thor could not internalize his reaction. His hips jerked up, almost placing the hard bone of his pelvis into Loki’s deft hand as if he had wanted the action.

 

Loki raised his eyebrows, stopping the motion of his hand inwards. “What’s this, Thor?” he murmured. “Forgot who’s touching you? Forgot I’m your brother?”

 

Thor’s grunt didn’t provide much of an answer, and the wavering of his eyelids could have meant anything. Loki supposed the motion may have simply been instinct, some unconscious clutch towards pleasure when Thor was in such discomfort. Loki sympathized. He would make it all better.

 

“Let’s see... what’s next?” Loki pondered. He looked around in mock searching. The mist still obscured most everything, and it was too easy to forget they were still upon Asgard. His eyes settled on Mjolnir, still sitting upright and surreptitious on the precipice of the island’s upper circle. Would it return to Thor’s hand if he were to call it now?

 

Loki looked back at Thor with an expression of affected innocence. “What if I, say... fucked Mjolnir?”

 

Thor’s eyes narrowed. It was too easy for Loki to imagine: Thor unable to control Mjolnir while still in chains against the plinth, the hammer reaming in and out of a sneering, preening Loki while Thor was helpless to do much more than watch. For how could he still be worthy of the hammer after allowing his brother to defile himself upon it in the name of justice?

 

Loki laughed. “No... I don’t think I’ll do that. Not yet. You haven’t earned that.” This was truth, yes, but Loki also wasn’t sure whether he really _wanted_ to fuck Mjolnir. That handle was... imposingly large. But he did not want Thor to know that even his degenerate brother had standards (or were they limits?). There were other, more efficient ways he could debase Thor.

 

He looked back at Thor and smiled. “I know what you’re thinking. Loki, how could you? Your own brother? How vile.” Loki’s voice had sunk to a purr. He was aiming for seductive, regardless of whether he wanted Thor to know that this was all an act, that he was only doing it to prove a point, or if he was truly out to convince Thor that he sincerely carried this incestuous lust.

 

Loki did not consider which of those he actually felt. Best to leave it ambiguous. Instead, he could use his silver tongue in a more... wordless way. A way that would not give his decision away, even to himself.

 

He caressed Thor’s neck once more with long, cold fingers, then knelt, watching Thor’s eyes all the while. They widened when Loki moved to undo his pants before vanishing them entirely with a wordless spell, wishing to give his brother as little comfort as possible.

 

Loki may have been imagining it, but he didn’t see a “no” in their blue depths. Perhaps Thor’s intent to sacrifice himself extended to this, too.

 

Thor was half-hard already when Loki free him, the god’s body betraying what Loki imagined his mind must be commanding it not to do. He was large, yes, almost as thick as Mjolnir’s handle and there was no way, no way that Loki could fit the entirety of Thor’s cock inside himself, in any hole. He would enjoy the moment when he could try, if it ever came.

 

_He’s your brother,_ Loki reminded himself, just as he had Thor moments prior. He wasn’t sure whether his brother was thinking the same thing; he seemed almost unbothered, as if no amount of debasement on Loki’s part would sully his pure nobility. Thor wasn’t even pulling away, at least not yet; he was stock-still and proud, unsheathed for all the world to see. This was his surrender, and he would not go into it like a coward.

 

Without warning, Loki reached around the back of Thor’s legs, dragging his fingernails lazilly up the wet, sensitized skin, making Thor’s hips buck forwards in a needy impulse, but Loki would not take him yet. Instead, he drew his hands inwards, up the insides of Thor’s muscular thighs, nearing closer to the thicker hair around his cock. Loki exhaled warmly onto its base.

 

“Don’t you see, Thor? I want to _corrupt_ you. I want you to _want_ this. I want you to _enjoy_ it.” His mouth twitched upwards into a feral smile and he ran his tongue over his teeth. This teasing was really far too much fun.

 

Loki wanted an answer to his unspoken question. He dipped his head back and looked into Thor’s eyes. Pain. He wondered what Thor saw in his.

 

Loki was hot now and lust-blind, though, and couldn’t hold himself any longer; he could feel his own hardness stretching his pants uncomfortably. Apparently, he wasn’t bothered by the wrongness of this, after all. _Shocking._

 

He let his mouth drop open, tongue rolling around the base of Thor’s cock, exchanging the cold, callous rain still falling, dripping down Thor’s body, with the warm slickness from deep in his throat. Loki could look no longer watch; he shut his eyes, for what more was Thor to him than any other of the innumerous proud warriors Loki had bed before? This was but a cock for him to service, and he could not resist from doing so with abject admiration.

 

It wasn’t, though. Loki should not separate himself from what he was doing. That would be cowardice. He had something to prove.

 

Thor’s entire body seemed to rumble as Loki slowly worked his way towards the tip; Loki knew that he wanted to cry out, but the muzzle still prevented it. The rain was dripping off of Thor’s cock and down Loki’s throat, but he did not mind, he drank it with gusto that it might be tainted by Thor’s essence and thus could be another swallowed relic of his own perversion. He kneaded Thor’s stiff muscles in his fingers and felt the throb of the thunder god’s cock under his tongue. The very mist around them seemed overcharged with the electricity of Thor’s strain against the handcuffs and the need of his unwanted desire.

 

Loki’s desire, too, was waxing deep despite the knowledge of who was currently thrusting weakly into his mouth, and he could stand the strain of his own cock no longer. He dropped his hands from between Thor’s legs and released himself, working his own erection to near release within seconds of tasting Thor’s precum leaking on the back of his tongue. Thor startled in response, but it went almost unnoticed because now the rain was anti-lubricating Loki’s skin; the roughness of taking himself in hand _hurt_ but he didn’t care, for he knew that Thor must truly hurt too, and likely much more than Loki himself ever could. He stopped before he could come. He knew that Thor must be the one to sin first.

 

He could hear Thor’s whimpers from deep in his throat as Loki curled his tongue around the tip of his cock; the god was being driven mad with rage and suppressed lust and revulsion. Loki had won. Thor would break soon, and so would he.

It would not be much longer. His brother was now thrusting obscenely into Loki’s mouth, pretense abandoned, probably due to the unconscious pleasure that was allowing him to enjoy this now that he was so close to finishing. Loki didn’t blame him. Undoubtedly Thor was pretending this was not Loki, just as Loki had closed his eyes and wished to believe that they were strangers sharing some meaningless passion instead of brothers who hated and loved each other in equal measure.

 

But that ignorance was now cowardice. Loki had made a coward out of Thor. Loki had won. It was time to revel in that victory. It was time to embrace that wrongness.

 

Thor’s cock hit the back of Loki’s throat and he couldn’t stand to remain ignorant: he wanted to see, to know exactly _who_ was about to come down his throat, to revel in this shared fallacy. He knew Thor would be looking away, trying to forget. But he would have to open his eyes eventually.

 

Loki tipped his head back to give Thor even more leeway down his throat and with another crack of thunder, Thor came, his seed alive and sour dancing down the back of Loki’s throat. Loki swallowed, still not allowing himself to come, but feeling utterly spent anyway. Now, there was truly no going back. Thor was inside of him. He looked upwards into the face of the god.

 

But Thor was not looking away, praying to be elsewhere, grateful that Heimdall could not see, imagining someone else, _anyone_ else in Loki’s place.

 

Thor was looking at Loki. His eyes were not that clear blue, gentle and forgiving and full of innocent love. They were lightning, and they were fire.

 

Loki almost choked, not from the seed still burning in his throat, but from the sight. It was like when Loki had whipped him, when Loki had hurt him, but different this time: Loki realized that his own mouth had been the whip, and the lightning was within his body.

 

He rested back on his heels, suddenly full of some unexpected fear. He had gone too far. He had trespassed upon Thor, and enjoyed every moment of it. Those eyes, alight with lightning and boring into him, would not look away. Loki would melt from the power of them.

 

And then, they closed, and Thor relaxed.

 

Heart racing, Loki stood back up, pants falling limply to the ground, and hesitantly reached out to Thor to remove the muzzle. Loki wondered whether he was about to be electrocuted to death, and nearly laughed at the utter ridiculousness of it. The metal did not shock him, though. It only felt warm and listless under his touch.

 

He stepped back and gazed upon his brother. Thor’s body had now lost the potent, electrified rage of before, and his arms hung drooping and exhausted from the handcuffs. All of his energy must have been drained by the release of storm and come, and he was now only a ruined husk. He said nothing. His lips were still bright and cracked, almost bloodied with the discharge of energy through his body.

 

Loki looked away. He would not allow himself to feel sorry for this. He had wanted it, and now he would live with it.

 

“Is this what you wanted, Thor?” His voice didn’t sound sad, nor remorseful. Only flat.

 

“If it pleases you, brother... If this is what you think of me.”

 

Loki recoiled as if struck and forced himself to look back at Thor, whose eyes had returned to normal, leaving him with an odd expression. It seemed almost... victorious. Thor had never been good at hiding his emotions. Loki scowled. It was he who had won, not Thor. Thor had surrendered; the rain had stopped, leaving only the omnipresent cloud and gloom heavy on the island. Loki stepped back, staring at Thor all the while, and sat back down on the ruined chaise, water puddling beneath him.

 

Thor straightened back up, trying to reinstill some pride in his debauched bones. Loki’s cock, too, wanted to straighten even more at the sight of Thor naked and glistening. He drew a pale, bare leg up to his chest to hide it.

 

He could do no other but look at Thor. He was to delight in the victory he had won. If this was victory, though, why did he feel so... unfinished? Maybe this was only a warning shot, a preview of the war to come. A beginning, not an end. He shuddered at the thought.

 

Thor’s expression softened as he looked upon Loki’s veiled shame. His mouth twisted into the strange sort of half-smile that Loki usually wore himself. “Why, Loki? Why… was this all because you know I wanted it?”

 

Loki felt a jolt in his stomach and froze. _Had Thor just said...?_

 

“Because, if so,” Thor said, very slowly, “you have found the most efficient way of tormenting me. With feigned love. Rest on your laurels, brother.”

 

Loki could not comprehend this, only stare gaping at Thor. Had this... _backfired_ too _?_

 

No. This was not merely Loki’s scheme thwarted again. This was even more of a victory than he could’ve expected. _Thor wants this. Thor wants me._

 

Loki looked down, trying to understand how in all the realms Thor could’ve held these feelings all these years and never told Loki. Or the fact that Thor could love his own brother, when even Loki had believed it the most twisted thing he could think of. Perhaps Thor was worse than Loki had thought. Perhaps he was even worse than Loki.

 

Thor was still staring at him, though; the yearning and bitter sweetness in his eyes went unnoticed while Loki tried to comprehend the weight of what Thor had revealed. But he could not stop himself from hearing his brother’s voice.

 

“Do you worst. Ignore me, leave me to suffer after you have fulfilled all of my wildest dreams. You have me beaten, brother.”

 

Loki wasn’t sure what to do at those words, he wasn’t sure what to think, so he settled for nothing, slinking further back into the chaise and wondering whether he, too, wanted this. He had been the one to start it, after all. But that had been out of spite, or at least he’d thought it so, not borne of any genuine sexual, much less romantic feelings towards his brother that he was consciously aware of. He did have to consider, however, that he might’ve only tried it to fulfill his own suppressed need that had been so deeply buried that he didn’t even know it was there. That this was not a coincidence, not chance, but fate.

 

Perhaps Thor had known it was there. Perhaps Thor had seen it in him when he could not himself. Thor had outsmarted him. And this was only another sacrifice on his behalf: falling in love with Loki to save Loki the pain of unrequited, terrible, unacceptable desire. _Damn him._

 

It simply made too much sense. The way he had treated Loki on the journey here. All of his touches over the years, his rage, his need to change Loki for the better. It was all for Loki’s benefit, yes, but it was for Thor’s too; he was grooming Loki to become his perfect match, to be able to accept love and love Thor in return. Could Loki be rightfully angry at that?

 

Sure. He could. He’d at least have to try.

 

Without realizing it, he had taken himself in hand again, absentmindedly touching without meaning. This could still be advantageous for him. He needn’t decide whether he reciprocated Thor’s love in the same way yet. He could wrest more truth, more pain, from the god before he had to show his own vulnerability.

 

He had Thor in the palm of his hands. It was foolish to give that up so soon. If Loki was going to Hel anyway, he might as well have fun with it.

 

Loki uncrossed his legs, dipped his head back lazily, and smirked.

 

 


	5. Chapter 5

 

“Thor, Thor. When was I ever able to ignore you?” Loki asked with reckless candor. He was back in seduction mode, only now it was for his own benefit. He had work to do, pleasure to seize.

 

Thor’s eyes snapped back onto him, searing his skin with their intensity. His cock twitched at the sight of Loki fully naked, stretched out and languid within mere feet of him, but he said nothing. 

 

Loki spit into his hand and started stroking with affected showiness, not taking his eyes off Thor’s all the while but to look down and watch the slow resurrection of Thor’s cock. He was doing this for show, ostensibly, but the warmth deep in his stomach betrayed his intentions; he was leaking precum and the raging hardness of his pale, slightly-curved cock could not lie. He laid back slightly and hooked a leg upon the back of the chaise, exposing himself obscenely to Thor.

 

Thor’s heady exhale was unmistakable, now, and Loki could tell he longed to reach down and mitigate some of his need, but the handcuffs still prevented it. He struggled to look away, but Loki’s body was magnetic; Thor could not leave him unwatched for long, for there was hardly anything else to look at on the barren island. Loki was surely more interesting than the repetitive crashing of waves. 

 

Finally, Thor closed his eyes, so Loki sighed ostentatiously. “That must hurt,” he purred in mock apology. 

 

Thor didn’t reply. He must have been onto Loki now, and didn’t want to give his brother any other ammunition against himself. His pride overcame his desire. Loki would have to change that. He almost felt bad for his brother. It was simple, undeniable fact how good he looked like this. Loki whimpered immodestly and reached his other hand behind to gently stroke the perimeter of his pink hole.

 

This was too much for Thor; he groaned and tried to force himself to look away.

 

“Don’t want to watch anymore, Thor? Had enough?”

 

Loki drew his hand back up and stuck two fingers in his mouth, rolling his tongue around them before reaching back down to slowly push inside himself with one, stroking his cock all the while. He punctuated it with a couple of moans of his own, drawing Thor’s attention again. It felt good, very good, to be showing off like this.

 

“Loki, I-” Thor struggled to spit out, now his hips were gyrating restlessly, unmistakable in the frigid air.

 

“You want to touch me now? To fuck me?”

 

Thor set his jaw and stared into Loki. “Yes,” he begged. 

 

Loki almost laughed for the satisfaction of having bested Thor already. It had taken much less than he’d anticipated to drain his brother of that wretched pride. Only a reminder now of what Thor could be claiming with his own cock if he would only bow and ask for it.

 

_ Hmph.  _ Loki hadn’t even realized when he’d made the subconscious admission that he wanted Thor to defile him. He supposed it might’ve been decided from the moment he chose to allow himself the thought of it as a possibility. In either case, imagining noble, heroic Thor inside of him was what drove him now, drove him to keep bringing himself closer and closer but never over the edge. He would not allow himself to come yet. That was for Thor to earn.

 

“But I’m having so much fun already. What makes you think you’d be any better?” Loki said. Even with his need growing out of hand, he still could not resist teasing his brother. He stretched out his back as he stuck the next finger in, twisting and burrowing deeper within himself. 

 

“Loki, please. Just be honest with me. For once.” Thor’s voice was stronger; some of his fortitude had returned as he considered what Loki was implying. His arms had relaxed slightly, the cuffs were no longer pulling so hard on his wrists. 

 

Loki stopped his motion and raised his eyebrows. “Very well.”

 

“Do you want this? Truly, want this? Or is this just to hurt me? Are you... getting off on what you will never give to me, what I want and I can’t have, or is it because...” he trailed off, the anguish in his voice all-too apparent now. His composure had slipped.

 

“Because I love the sight of you like this? Because I loved having your cock down my throat? Because I loved the feeling of you inside of me and I’m just  _ aching _ for more?”

 

“Yes,” he admitted. Thor’s voice was full of utter defeat, but there was something underneath it, a hope that Loki really was about to give him precisely what he’d always wanted. The conflict must’ve been driving Thor mad.

 

Loki drew his fingers back out of his hole and sat up. They weren’t  _ enough _ for him anyway. Loki wanted more.

 

“Why can’t it be both?”

 

“Both?”

 

“Yes, Thor. Maybe I want both. I want to have and be had. I want to know that you are  _ worse  _ than me. I want to be your defeat. If it brings me pleasure, too, then so be it.”

 

Loki sprung up before he could regret this impulse and magicked the handcuffs restraining Thor open. For a split second, he worried that Thor might now use his freedom to hurt Loki far worse than Loki wanted him to. But he didn’t. Instead, his arms wrapped warmly around Loki’s body, and Loki was kissing him again, not with rage this time but with passion and maybe love, and Thor was kissing him back with all the same. This could not be punishment. This was reparation.

 

Loki leaned back and gasped slightly. The unexpected rush of emotion had struck him harder than any of Thor’s blows ever could. “Fuck me, Thor.”

 

He decided in that moment that he had never spoken with greater certainty in his life. This was Loki’s punishment: the forcible extraction of truth from his liar’s mind. A truth which he had even hidden from himself. The most fitting retribution he could be served. 

 

Thor had been right all along, and Loki a fool.

 

Struck by his own recognition of defeat, Loki offered himself up meekly and Thor started kissing him once more, making use of his now-freed hands by grabbing Loki’s bare ass, grinding him up against his hard length, controlling Loki. Thor moaned into his mouth at the relief of finally feeling friction upon his cock; it was the most beautiful sound. Loki knew that he was finally doing good upon Thor, doing good upon both of them,  _ doing good  _ by doing bad. He hadn’t even to beg, for Thor knew exactly what he needed, to be forced into doing what would be best for him. This relinquishing of his own authority, his autonomy, his trust to Thor was freedom to him. Thor would treat him better than he could ever treat himself. 

 

And, by the feel of it, Thor was all too eager to demonstrate how his brother should be treated.

 

He twisted Loki roughly around, pushing his face up against the hard pillar, kissing down the back of his neck all the while. One hand snaked forwards to stroke Loki’s cock with a much harder, rougher hand than Loki’s own, while the other grabbed a handful of ass and spread it, fingering in towards the center, making Loki squirm with excitement. Thor’s cock was pressing upon his spine in equal hardness with the bone. 

 

The prodding of Thor’s fingers upon Loki’s hole was much more purposeful than his own had been. There was no gentleness, no loving caress, only single-minded drive towards opening Loki up just enough for Thor to take him, and Loki would have it no other way. Although he welcomed the pain, he did not wish for blood to be spilled today, not when the brothers had finally reached this mutually beneficial agreement, so he muttered a quick spell of lubrication, enough to protect his skin but too little to prevent it from hurting. He needed the reminder.  

 

Thor gasped raggedly when his fingers slid inside much deeper with less difficulty. Before pulling back out to line his cock up with the opening he massaged briefly Loki’s prostate; apparently, he did wish for Loki to enjoy this. That much was hard to ignore when Thor was still stroking his cock with almost desperate recklessness. If he did not slow, Loki wouldn’t last nearly as long as he wanted to.

 

But Thor did stop, instead moving his hand around to Loki’s hip to anchor himself. He put his whole focus onto pressing up against Loki’s entrance; sealing their agreement with this final bond. Loki’s breath caught. He had but one last moment to hesitate, to ask Thor if this was what he really wanted, to worry that this was the ultimate wrong, to wonder whether they would be damned eternally for this sin.

 

He did none of that. 

 

Thor tucked his head down, chin resting on Loki’s shoulder, and exhaled headily. 

 

“I love you, brother.”

 

Loki could not bear to reply.

 

The first thrust was thunder; his entire body shook with the weight of it and he saw flickering stars from the pain and felt prickling shock dancing on every millimeter of contact he shared with Thor. There was no slow build, no testing the waters before Loki was entirely filled up, split into a million pieces from the impact, torn asunder by this act of surrender. He could not breathe; he did not want to, for the air was impartial and impersonal and Loki wanted to be owned by Thor entirely and exclusively. He wanted to breathe in only what Thor breathed out. To be owned. To be Thor’s receptacle.

 

He got what he wanted for. Thor grabbed his ass tight and set a punishing pace, with every thrust bruising Loki’s cheekbone into the crystal. And soon Loki discovered that there was no room for himself in his body, certainly no room for both of them, and Loki wished for nothing less than to be overcome, possessed by Thor, his cock and his hands and the crackling lightning that he imagined lived now within his very nerve endings.

 

Thor did not see the good in Loki. Thor  _ was _ the good in Loki. 

 

This was what Thor had seen all along: Loki’s love for his brother was the only good in him. But it was enough. Loki was wrong. Loki was not wholly evil and he had none other to blame than Thor. 

 

Thor’s pace increased and Loki felt himself starting to cry at the realization and the overwhelming sensations and the magical significance of the moment and his sudden clarity at what  _ love _ meant, something he thought he could never understand. Leave it to Thor to coax it out. He felt a pain upon his wrist and knew it was Thor’s hand clutching at it with an intensity he normally reserved exclusively for Mjolnir, shoving it up against the pillar where the runes inscribed into it scratched incessantly at his sensitized skin. Loki could not tell which hurt worse, the bone-breaking grip of Thor’s hand on his wrist, or the lack of friction on his own untouched cock. He longed to reach down and take himself again, but he could not, for he knew it was wrong to  _ defy _ Thor in that way. If Thor had wanted to give Loki’s cock attention, he would do it. Loki would not ask, for that would be claiming that he knew what he needed better than Thor did, and he’d been proven wrong in that respect already. He needed,  _ wanted _ Thor’s permission to feel. 

 

The lubrication spell had been merely enough for Thor’s first encroachment and Loki could feel it wearing thin. It hurt, but this was even better, for what else could afford to make Loki feel better than pain? It was torturous, punishing, this forcible reminder that Loki was more than a phantom inhabiting this flesh that his brother was taking so roughly. He was real, whether he wanted it to be so or not. He was a part of his body, he was the one being  _ fucked _ so deliriously; he was the one whose mind was sending frantic signals to  _ stop _ , to pull away, for isn’t one supposed to avoid pain? 

 

No. Thor was stronger than that, so Loki would need to be stronger than it too. It was the least he could do.

 

Thor’s grunts were becoming louder, overtaking the volume of the waves crashing on the black cliffs below them. Loki heard sounds that must have been from his own throat, too, indistinguishable cries of pleasure and pain; he hoped that Thor could hear both. His pace was slowing, and Loki feared his brother was growing close to release, but he didn’t truly mind, for he was here to serve Thor and his own pleasure was at the behest of Thor’s mercy. If he never allowed Loki to come... well, maybe  _ that _ was Loki’s punishment. He felt a smile growing upon his wicked face at the thought of serving Thor in this way for eternity. 

 

His tears leaked down between his lips and he tasted salt. Thor let out a higher keen and Loki let his head roll back onto his brother’s shoulder, nuzzling their faces together. It was an impulse. Loki was weak. He could no longer deny his love. 

 

Thor welcomed it, though, releasing his hand from Loki’s wrist and caressing it over his arm to his neck, a backwards, perverted version of that dangerous embrace they had been playing at since children. It was not rough, not meant to hurt Loki (though he would have appreciated that, too), but a lover’s gentle touch. It sent a shiver down Loki’s spine and he arched his back involuntarily, gasping when the motion drove Thor’s cock deeper into himself. 

 

He closed his eyes and kissed Thor, hoping it was what his brother wanted, and the crack of thunder overhead seemed to confirm it. Thor indulged him and another fat tear escaped Loki’s eye. They were the waves, the salt, the storm. 

 

“I love you, too, Thor.” It was barely more than a whisper. A private promise.

 

Thor clutched at Loki’s chest and his ass desperately, needy now at his brother’s honest words. He could not manage a response, but started fucking Loki harder again, his pace irregular and labored as he neared finishing. This was finality. He reached around and took Loki again in hand, matching his stroking with the pace of his own thrusts. Loki understood. Thor wanted this to be together, in perfect balance, bonded by blood and love and shared sacrifice. Together. 

 

Loki felt himself starting to collapse, on the brink of dissolution from Thor’s use of him, and his voice would not quiet; he could only keen stutteringly as Thor thrusted into him with punctuated moans of his own. The thunder was rolling ceaselessly now, the crashing indistinguishable with the waves, and Loki could wait no longer. Thor shoved him up the plinth harder with the thrust of his hips and the grip of his hand on Loki’s neck and he felt his feet leave the ground entirely as he came, fast and cruel from Thor’s stroke onto the crystal, covering it with seed. A moment later came a sharp crack of lightning that Loki felt buzzing through his entire body and he knew it was Thor’s orgasm, too; he felt himself filling up and knew his body would be red and bruised from Thor’s steely grip around his body.

 

Thor pulled out with agonizing slowness, reluctant to leave the warm embrace of Loki’s body, but his grip did not loosen, and neither did his breath quiet. Neither did the tears halt their well-worn tracks down Loki’s face, but he forced his eyes open regardless, staring into Thor’s exhausted, beautiful face. He had rarely seen his brother in such a state. The lightning ceased its flashing through the dense mist, but the low rumble of thunder remained, more distant now.

 

Loki let his head slump back completely onto Thor’s shoulder, drained and exhausted but more satisfied than he’d been in centuries. Thor was clinging to Loki as if he was the only thing keeping him alive, on the brink of collapse from the release. 

 

Loki wasn’t sure what was holding them up.

 

He felt a warmth down his leg and looked down to see Thor’s come draining out of him, matching the pace of Loki’s own making its way down the crystal in front of them. It was slow and unhurried, unforced, and as beautiful as anything else Loki had seen on the island. He rested his forehead against the pillar and watched, letting a comfortable silence settle in.

 

They stood there, unmoving except for their ragged breathing, until Loki could no longer feel any sense of time or place. Neither of them wanted to sully the moment with a word, for words had been their downfall so many times. Finally, their come reached the black, polished rock below them and began draining towards the underside of the pillar, towards the gaps beneath it that Loki had assumed existed to catch the blood from the punished body chained above them. He wondered whether the unnamed gods who had moved this fragment of Hel onto Asgard had ever considered that their torture devices would be used in this way. 

 

He smiled at the thought and sunk back into Thor’s warm, strong embrace, which had become more steady in their quiet intimacy. Thor’s skin no longer buzzed so acutely, but the sensation from earlier lingered and Loki still felt oversensitive. They were almost in equilibrium now, his positive charge incessantly drawn to Thor’s negative, but matched in strength. The storm calmed ever further, and even the mist now seemed less dense than before. The island was in stasis; they had completed the action but not the corresponding judgment. That was one thing they could not escape. 

 

Thor started stroking Loki’s hipbone with a blunt fingernail. It sent chills back down to where he’d thought himself spent. 

 

“I believe you.” Thor’s voice was low and broke quietly. It startled Loki, but the sentiment ameliorated him nonetheless.

 

“Believe me? About… what I said?”

 

He felt Thor nod and hum in assent on the back of his neck.

 

“How couldn’t you? I would’ve thought this was proof enough,” Loki explained, gesturing to the come below them. 

 

Thor chuckled. “Proof was never so finite or conclusive with you. And you are still you.”

 

“I’m still me.” 

 

The fact sounded like praise; for some reason, this seemed an invitation for Loki to kiss his brother again. It was sweet and nearly innocent compared to the fiery obsessiveness they had shown earlier. They were no longer two aggressors locked in a battle for dominance, but wiser than that, instead using each other for the benefit of both. Their nature had been exposed and harmonized, but never changed. Loki found meaning in the distinction, and in the path they had taken to reach it. They more than just two star-crossed lovers finally realizing their pining had been mutual. Thor was Thor, Loki was Loki. They were brothers before all. Every meaning of “love” applied to them. 

 

Loki would have to mention that particular sentiment to Thor someday. But it would have to wait, for Thor was now enthusiastically claiming his lips, quieting his tongue as he explored Loki’s hip and side and ribs with unusual gentleness. He wanted it no other way.

 

Thor pulled back, though, his eyes squinting upwards from a self-effacing smile. “I’m sorry. I just... I thought it might’ve been another trick.”

 

Before this, such comment would have hurt his feelings, resulting into a sarcastic quip, a  _ you’ll never know me. _ Now, Loki couldn’t help to feel pleased at the confirmation that Thor knew him so well, and he chuckled at the sound of it. So much had changed already, and Loki would need to get used to being understood. Because now, he found that Thor had earned it. “That would have been... possible. Not outside the realm of my devilries,” Loki granted him.

 

“I know. I feared that. You had me. You always have, and sometimes I don’t even think you knew how well you wielded me. I was vulnerable, Loki. Love does that to you. You saw it with my love for others, for entire realms, for everything else I have ever protected. But my love for you has always been different. You never needed my protection. And I only loved you more for it. It was realer, deeper-held than the love I had for anyone but you. And more pure in that way. But also secret, shameful. It could have hurt me. It  _ did  _ hurt me. With what we’ve just done, you could have ruined me, wholly, forever.”

 

Loki said nothing.

 

Thor didn’t stop, though. “Even your submission might’ve been another cruelty, or maybe mercy at best. I didn’t carry around this secret for nothing. I truly thought I could never tell you.”

 

A warm tear dripped onto Loki’s bare shoulder. 

 

Thor continued, voice strong despite his naked emotion at this admission. “And perhaps you are only a better liar than I ever gave you credit for, and you are lying about all of this, and my torment will be neverending… you could still do that to me. I would love you for it either way. But you made me believe you. And I do. Entirely. That this is real.”

 

Loki broke again and collapsed back into Thor, turning around and embracing him in a hug they had waited far too long to share. Being believed was not something he was used to. He let the hug hold steady, the brothers crying together at their shared feelings and relinquished fortitude. 

 

“What was it? That changed your mind?” Loki could not help himself from asking.

 

Thor let his head roll back, searching the bare stars for words. “This sounds... I don’t know, maybe a bit absurd to be saying, but it was your words. Your silver tongue. Because you were right. And consistent in your insistence. You believed what you were saying. You weren’t lying to either of us. That got through to me.”

 

“About what?” Loki searched his mind for what he possibly could have said to convince Thor. 

 

“About this, this... you and I, brothers… together... doing these wrong, wicked, repulsive things. Being everything that you yourself claimed to be. It is what we are, I suppose,” Thor added matter-of-factly. “Most would say so, at least.”

 

“And?”

 

Thor spoke slowly, choosing his words to carry the most weight. “And you did it. You chose to submit, to be taken by me. You proved that this is what you wanted. What you are.” 

 

“And that doesn’t bother you?” Loki still didn’t fully understand his logic. 

 

“Loki, don’t you understand?” Thor was getting heated again, now, his voice raising. “That is me, too. It was me first - I loved you first. I’ve wanted this our entire lives. If this is wrong, then I am wrong.”

 

Loki was starting to get it, and with that, he felt his entire argument crashing down upon him; the ebony pillars of the island might as well have been falling down into the sea because  _ Loki _ had actually been the wrong one, only in a different way. He looked down, working through the implications of what Thor was saying. 

 

“Brother, I believe you when you say you are evil. I believe that you believe it.” He paused, letting Loki mull on the assertion. Far from being an insult, he was bolstered and gladdened by it, by the fact that Thor had finally seen what he knew was truth his entire life. Thor was not making excuses for him anymore, nor denying his reality, but accepting it. And that meant more to Loki than perhaps anything he’d learned here so far. How good it felt to finally be understood.

 

“I only think that your perceptions of right and wrong might be... flawed,” Thor finished.

 

“Probably. What’s your point?” Loki slid his hand back up Thor’s spine, cradling his neck. 

 

“I suppose I’m trying to show you that this... I... I am an opportunity. For you. A better one,” Thor finished hopefully. 

 

Loki rested his head back against the pillar. “What do you mean?”

 

“It’s like I said before, when we first came here. I can be your outlet. I want to be. We can be each other’s release. For all of this negative energy. You wanting to hurt people.  _ Me  _ losing control of my temper and wanting to hurt people, sometimes, as hard as that is to admit.”

 

Loki felt his heart soaring at the suggestion, and at Thor’s admission that Loki’s wasn’t the only temper that needed reeling in sometimes. Perhaps that information could even come in handy later.  _ This... forever. Or at least for now.  _ “That sounds... suitable.” For once, he didn’t want Thor to misunderstand him, so he let a coy smirk indicate his understatement. “Better than trying to murder Midgardians?”

 

“A little.”

 

Loki felt his back growing warm. “I... I hope it is enough.”

 

Thor reached out and brushed his jaw with a thumb. “I’ll make sure it is.”

 

“Even if that means hurting me? To restrain me, if need it?” Loki hoped that he would need to. 

 

Thor smiled wide. “Reminding you who’s in charge? Yes. Especially if it means that.”

 

Loki felt himself starting to cry again; the joy of having this direction was getting to him more than anything he’d ever felt. Thor reached up to wipe his tears. Loki wanted to express how much it meant to him that Thor would sacrifice himself in such a way, but he was sure Thor knew already. That was why they were here, after all. Thor’s intentions were crystal clear. He’d been steadfast and determined from the start, and Loki was grateful, so grateful, that  _ this _ had been his punishment and not a cell. He did not want to escape this. It was more reward than prison, and most of all, he knew it would  _ work. _

 

“Thor... do you think we are able to leave now? You said we’d know when the spell was fulfilled. Do you feel it?”

 

Thor leaned back, letting go of Loki to stretch his tired muscles. “Well... no.”

 

“I don’t either. Don’t get me wrong, I feel pretty  _ fulfilled _ ,” Loki said, earning a demure laugh from Thor, “but I don’t think we could leave, if we tried. There has to be something more.”

 

“You’re the sorcerer, not me. What do you think we need to do?”

 

Loki tipped his head to the side, thinking. “Well, we’ve made our decision. And it’s definitely the right one.” Thor smiled at Loki’s certainty. “But I think we have to have physical evidence of it. And something tells me that this plinth isn’t here for nothing.”

 

Thor looked slightly confused, but Loki felt confident, sure that he was onto something. Loki’s predictions were rarely entirely incorrect, and he had a feeling that the hollow pillar would need to be as full as his own ass had been. He turned around to inspect it further, tracing his bruised fingers down the unreadable runes.

 

With a gasp, he saw that the bottommost ones were no longer near-invisible, but glowed lightly with a pearly sheen.  _ Surely not...  _ His mouth twisted upward in part disbelief, part amusement. 

 

“Thor, I think I know what it is.” He twisted back around to see Thor lounging casually on the soaked chaise. Loki was almost certain that he’d been admiring Loki’s ass as he bent over, examining the pillar. He looked rather dazed.

 

He jerked back up at Loki’s words, stolen back out of his reverie. “What?”

 

“Okay. This is going to sound... strange, but hear me out. I noticed when we first got here that this pillar has openings around the bottom. Now, obviously I’ve no idea how you would’ve made me think this,” he added a narrow-eyed glare to punctuate his tone, “but I thought it was for catching the blood of the accused. As some sort of tribute to prove submission, or something.”

 

“And it’s not?” Thor asked, slightly disbelieving.

 

“Well, Thor, it could be, but it seems we’ve already started filling it. You see, the capillary action of whatever liquid, besides water, obviously, that is caught in this drain sends it up through what looks like minute channels in the pillar, carrying it into the runes.” Thor’s expression made it very obvious that he wasn’t entirely following. “Here, just come look. See if you can... figure it out.” 

 

Thor complied, sliding off the chaise to crouch next to Loki, who pointed out the white ones. “Does that look like blood to you, Thor?”

 

He stared for a few seconds, then blushed beet-red, a wild smile blistering his face. He exhaled sharply. “No... no it doesn’t.”

 

“Mm. Seems we’ve really made our mark here, already. My hypothesis is that we need to fill it up all the way. And I’m not slitting my wrists for this.”

 

“Me, neither.”

 

Loki turned to his brother and smirked. “Then I think we’ve only one other option.”

 

Thor laughed, sweet and open, and kissed him.


	6. Chapter 6

Loki was positive that the next few days were the most blissful of his life. They soon found out that the plinth demanded enough liquid to possibly kill the condemned if it were blood, and it would be at least more than a couple blessedly drawn-out ruts before they could fill it entirely. Loki finally felt freedom in this infinite time spent discussing their arrangement, magicking increasingly sensational foods for them to eat, sleeping soundly in each other’s arms under the stars, and getting fucked better than he’d ever thought possible. For the first time in memory, Loki was living without fear. It was important to keep reminding himself that, once they were finished, they would be leaving.

 

This was good. The island had grown familiar, and though the ceaseless mist and rain hadn’t stopped, he no longer minded them so much. But that didn’t matter. They still had to leave, circumstances be damned, once they had fulfilled the spell upon them. It was difficult for Loki to admit, but he knew it was for the best. Even perfection was sure to be a problem, eventually. The urgency and harshness of their first time had worn off, and they were fucking as lovers now. Not that there was anything wrong with that, but... 

 

“Thor, I think we’re almost there,” Loki said after one particularly-sweet instance, where Thor had made him kiss his every inch with his hands tied round his back and Loki had gratefully complied. He looked reverently at the plinth, which had become a thing of beauty and esteem now that he understood its purpose, rather than the mysterious interloper it had been before. It was now nearly covered in warm-white runes, with only a few clear ones left near the top. 

 

Thor stretched his neck back, resting it on the arm of the chaise, which Loki had dried and magically cleaned, stroking Loki’s collarbone with a thumb. It was easy to hear the smile in his voice. “That’s too bad. I don’t want to stop. I don’t want to return home, yet.” 

 

Loki grimaced slightly and pulled the snow-white furs he’d summoned to ward off the cold tighter over their entwined bodies, nuzzling his head possessively into Thor’s chest. He hoped that “stopping” and “going home” were not the same thing. “I know. Trust me, I’d love to be like this forever.”

 

Thor must’ve heard the uneasiness in his voice. “But?”

 

“But you know I can’t. I can’t hide these… feelings I’ve been having from myself, and definitely not from you. I guess it sounds rather foolish, especially given how... satisfied I’ve been the past few days. But,” Loki sighed, grasping Thor’s wandering hand in his own and holding it tight, “I feel it coming back, Thor. The resistance against this bliss, this easy goodness. This has been a wonderful foray into a life... a version of me... that isn’t completely my own. It’s missing something. I’m sorry it can’t be this way, but this is not me, and it grows tiresome.”

 

Thor chuckled; the rumbling of his chest underneath Loki’s own was comforting. “You’re using an awful lot of words to tell me you want to do something bad again. You don’t want me to catch you misbehaving?”

 

Loki blushed. He wondered if Thor would feel the warmth radiating off his cheek.

 

“Or you do?” Thor teased. “You’ve forgotten, brother, what we decided on. I know what you are. You’ve forgotten that I want to do this. Do you think you’ve atoned for your sins, already?”

 

Satisfied in his provocation, Loki threw the furs off and shriveled away from Thor, lithely sliding off the chaise to escape answering, but he was stopped by a rough, calloused hand grabbing his wrist with unrestrained strength.

 

Loki looked back at his brother, eyes wide, his mind overly clear at Thor’s reaction. “No.”

 

“Do you want to?” Thor gripped him even harder, deadly lust brimming behind his mask of innocence.

 

Loki felt his pulse quicken ever further as he summoned a dagger to his free hand protectively. “Unhand me, or we shall see we just how much  _ wrong  _ I can do.” He tried to sound menacing, but knew Thor would hear the bare desire behind it, so much darker than the warm, sweet love-making they’d grown used to sharing. Loki was glad of it. And even more glad that his  _ kneel to me _ and his  _ fuck me, make me pay _ voice were one and the same now. 

 

Thor grinned threateningly and pulled Loki down onto the chaise underneath him, pinning him under his own massive body with barely-mitigated weight, and held Loki’s hands above his head with a single one of his own. The dagger clattered to the ground and Loki could only look up helplessly, breathing ragged with the thrill of being controlled in this way, as Thor decided what to do with his small act of insubordination.

 

Loki could not resist provoking the resting bear; the warning signs were too enticing. He summoned another dagger; Thor’s wrists were yet close enough to be within range. “What’s wrong, Thor? Have I gone too far this time? You can’t figure out how to punish my latest transgression? Maybe I can give you ideas.”

 

Thor responded with a hand to his neck, pressing down upon his windpipe just enough to turn his normally smooth voice into a croak. Loki could not tell whether it was supposed to be an assault or a caress. This transformation in Thor’s disposition had come on so quickly. Loki knew it would be good to remind himself that he was not the only one with intricacies and internal paradoxes.

 

“ _ Hmph _ . I know what I’d do to you. You could get off me, and I’d show you,” Loki said, only teasing now; he had no intentions of dominating Thor. He was not going to ask for what he wanted, and this was so much more fun than being direct about it.

 

Thor backed off slightly, apparently fazed. Maybe he was imagining what Loki wanted him doing. Loki smiled sweetly and played idly with the dagger still resting between his bound hands. “I could conjure another whip, you know. And you still have Mjolnir. But those ideas are rather… outworn, right? I do have knives, as you’ve seen,” Loki mused; Thor had loosened his grip, and his touch now was more of an embrace. “Maybe I’d put you in a collar. Or tie you up so you couldn’t move anything but your beautiful mouth. There are so many ways that you could please me. And even more ways that I could hurt you.”

 

“Why,” Thor growled, reestablishing his hold on Loki.

 

“Ow, Thor, that hurts, do you know how strong you are?”

 

Loki smiled internally when he saw Thor’s cock starting to swell in his peripheral vision at the compliment. His tactics were working.

 

“Why,” Thor repeated.

 

“You said it yourself. You’re bad, too. You want to hurt people, too. You don’t think you should be punished for that? Can’t let me have all the fun,” Loki breathed. In reality, Loki did want to have all the fun, but sometimes (all the time) fun also meant teasing Thor past the brink of permission. 

 

Thor’s muscles bulged imposingly as he lifted back up slightly; Loki could smell his consternation, his susceptibility in this position. He shook his head slightly, no doubt trying to rid himself of the intrusive thoughts of himself tied up and collared while Loki used him. Loki only looked at him with affected innocence, watching him, daring him to do something more.

 

“Loki…” Thor warned. 

 

Loki smiled dangerously. “Think it over. I believe you’ve been lying this whole time about being so good. I believe you deserve to be punished for that. It would only be fair,” he added in mock realization.

 

This was apparently enough to set Thor off; he shoved Loki roughly to the ground and got up to get something from the almost-forgotten saddlebags strewn across the black stone. Loki vanished the dagger as he no longer needed it, and watched with excitement as his brother pulled out the handcuffs from before, a collar on a short, silvery chain, as well as a dark wood paddle, and an ominous-looking steel bar, which he retracted out to three feet long with circular attachments on either side for restraining someone. Loki bit his lip. Not “someone”. Him. 

 

He also realized that  _ these _ were the implements Thor had been talking about all of those days ago. Some torture he’d planned on being subjected to. 

 

“Kneel,” Thor said with menacing authority.

 

Loki only looked up at him, still laying destitute on the ground. “Hey, that’s my word.”

 

“Not anymore,” Thor growled, and grabbed Loki by the neck, latching the metal collar on and yanking his head backwards. The cold steel bit into his skin with none of the love he’d grown used to receiving from Thor. “I said, kneel.”

 

“No.”

 

Thor responded by pulling him bodily up by the chain, cutting off his air completely for a moment, as he forced Loki to kneel in front of the plinth, facing the runes they’d imbued with themselves. 

 

“Okay, okay, sorry,” he coughed, a laugh in his voice, and stuck his arms out so that Thor could restrain them to the bars running up the corners on either side of him.

 

Thor did so impassively, taking little care to show Loki any more attention than he would a prisoner, then started attaching the spreader bar to his ankles. “You’re not sorry.” 

 

Loki laughed again. “No, I’m not. In fact, I love thi-”

 

His last word was abruptly cut off by the sting of the paddle against his ass. It hurt, but only slightly; Thor was only warning him for now. 

 

“Still not sorry?” Thor asked stoically.

 

Loki was rather let down that he could not see Thor’s face. “Even less, now. Brother, you’ve changed less than I thought. You are still so easy to anger.” Thor was no longer holding his collar so tight, so Loki let his forehead slump forward onto the plinth, bracing for the next blow.

 

It came much sharper this time. Loki heard the whoosh of air before he felt the unforgiving wood stinging his skin; the runes scratched at his face, maybe after enough of this, the proof of their love would be written into his skin with bared blood. Loki smiled. Maybe he had been right about the blood sacrifice in the first place.

 

“You like this?” was Thor’s reply from behind him. He pulled the chain sharply to the side so that Loki could see him, naked and reddened with passion and battle-rage.

 

Loki’s eyes slipped down to Thor’s cock, fully-hard now and enormous, and licked his lips. “Is this your first time hurting someone like this? You don’t have to answer, I know it is. Wouldn’t it be better if you were in my place? I could show you how it’s  _ really _ done. I think I’d like that far more.”

 

“Liar,” Thor grunted, and smacked him again, even harder than the last time. His own cock was full and wanting now, too, and he wondered whether Thor wanted to hit him with the paddle there. He chuckled airlessly; the pain was filling him, he was getting drunk on it. Thor was so obviously new to this, so driven only by his own desire to hurt Loki and satiate his own bloodlust. This was not merely keeping Loki in line, controlling him, helping him. Thor  _ wanted _ to do this damage. 

 

It was endearing. Loki loved him even more for this shared proclivity.

 

Without warning, Thor grabbed hold of the bar between Loki’s ankles and yanked it backwards, causing him to collapse painfully to the ground, biting his lip hard, cock trapped underneath him, wrists still held in place by the biting cuffs that left his arms dangling a foot above the ground. He gasped from the shock and impact, recoiling upwards, knees struggling to gain purchase on the slick ground. 

 

Thor chuckled.

 

Loki gritted his teeth; he was full of rage and passion and probably lust now that in mere seconds Thor had gone from his kind, compassionate, loving brother to this... sadist. This was a side of him that Loki had not seen in ages, at least not more than in glimpses. Thor had been excellent at hiding it; if it hadn’t disappeared already, Loki knew it never would. Now, it was fully unleashed. This anger, this hunger for another’s pain was not only a part of Loki, but an inextricable part of Thor.

 

So be it, then. Loki was determined to give him what he wanted. He curved his spine upwards, arching his bare ass into the freezing air to tease Thor, causing his own cock to drag upon the ground with affirming friction. If Thor were to fuck him like this... 

 

Thor still held the chain connected to Loki’s collar, but his grip was looser now, and Loki twisted up to look at him. He spit blood before Thor’s feet; his voice was half-broken from Thor’s abuse of his throat. “Brother, I think you are the one who is enjoying this.”

 

Thor answered first with another smack to the back of his thighs. “I am. Unlike you, I needn’t lie about it.”

 

“W-wasn’t… lying…”

 

Another. This time, it was with enough force to send Loki back slumping on the ground; Thor jerked his collar back and held it there this time, so that Loki could hardly emit a gasp from his half-closed throat, let alone speak more words that might cause Thor to have to hurt him again.

 

Thor left him untouched for long enough to make Loki consider what they were truly doing; perhaps Thor was doing the same. Loki was grateful for the respite. Not from the pain, no, he wished for more of that, and anyway, his throat still burned from the bite of the collar. More than anything, Loki was grateful for the removal of his own free will. He felt the ice-blue eyes boring into the back of his head, his ass, the sliver of his balls visible from behind at the behest of the spreader bar. The ocean breeze was starting to come in thicker and stronger, causing a trail of goosebumps to spread over his skin.

 

Thor dropped the chain from Loki’s collar; it hit Loki’s back heavily and he knew he could use this small semblance of freedom Thor had given him to retaliate, to speak again, or at least breathe. But he found that he no longer wanted to. Thor had shown him how much he enjoyed being controlled, and he left his head back, breathing in short gasps of air through his pained throat, to placate Thor. He hoped that this could prove to Thor that he was a good boy, an obedient one. Maybe he would even be rewarded for it. Thor continued watching Loki, perhaps to see if he would try to be defiant again, but Loki had little more to say, he was too wanting now, his mind so clouded with pain and lust that he could not form words, let alone speak them. And now Thor was making him wait. It stung far worse than the paddle had. 

 

Still, though, nothing as Thor tested his patience. Loki closed his eyes, wishing for relief.  _ Brother _ was all he could think… when the word escaped his throat, he barely realized it had been him saying it.

 

He heard a hum back in response and a current of air between his legs from Thor kneeling between them, and he arched his back unconsciously, his need peaking and his patience running out. He could feel the welts from the paddle glowing hot and painful still, and braced for another.

 

Nonetheless, it never came; instead of the sound of it on his skin he heard the sharp clatter of Thor dropping it, and now Thor was tracing the marks with his fingers, sending shivers up Loki’s spine. He was hyper-aware of the minute friction of his cock against the ground with his ass up like this; he could not wait much longer with it untouched, he moved his hips slightly to try and sate his need, hoping Thor would not notice. 

 

But of course he would, fingers tracing the lines on Loki’s ass as he was, and when he stopped doing it, Loki stopped too, afraid of what was coming next but also… excited. This wasn’t his first time mingling pain with his pleasure, but this was so  _ different _ because it was with Thor, of all else. He had never experienced trust in this way. The cuffs biting into his wrists were on the cusp of drawing blood, so he watched the marks growing redder and redder as he hung, head back, waiting for what would be done to him next; he forced his eyes to stay open despite the pain so he could embrace it as much as possible.

 

Thor did not hurt him, he did not spank nor bite, only pushed the bar forwards, dragging Loki’s bruised and rawing knees up on the slippery ground, making his ass stick out even further but providing blessed relief to his aching shoulders and wrists. And now Thor was kneeling between Loki’s spread-wide legs, kissing each welt and up the back of Loki’s reddened thighs, hesitating slightly before moving further inwards to place one gently right underneath the rim of Loki’s asshole. 

 

Loki did not jump. He did not gasp. Thor had not asked him to.

 

This bliss Thor was giving him seemed like permission to be lost in the feeling, and so Loki lost himself to it, still and unmoving and trapped within his bounded body, but why would he want to leave this place when it was being worshipped in such a way? His cock was still neglected, but he forgot entirely about it, mesmerized as he was from Thor’s gentle tonguing caresses on his ass, drained of all thought from the concentrated pleasure. 

 

Loki could remain silent no longer when he heard the wet sounds from Thor’s mouth, producing more of his blessed wetness to bathe Loki in his warmth; it seemed like a chance for him to do the same. A drawn-out whimper escaped his throat and Loki could almost feel Thor’s smile at the sound through his impassioned tonguing. Around the rim, dipping inside, gliding smoothly down to lick short strokes up his balls… Loki’s cock was leaking, throbbing for attention, but something was missing… This was wonderful, yes, but it could not compare in sheer magnitude to what Thor could give him if he would only just hurt him, just a little, just to amplify it all...

 

It made sense, though. Loki’s punishment this time was not in pain, but in pleasure, after he had been taught how delicious pain could be. 

 

He keened low, begging for its return. Just because he understood did not mean he would comply with Thor’s cruel sweetness. Maybe if he just… asked for it…

 

He dropped his head in shame. “Thor…” he coughed, voice rough but full of conviction.

 

“Yes?” Thor’s breathy growl tickled uncomfortably over Loki’s hole. 

 

“I want… can you…” Loki sputtered, struggling to find the words to describe what he wanted when all he could think about was how much he missed Thor’s tongue on his ass.

 

But Thor must have known how much Loki needed him, because he drew back to bend over Loki, supporting himself with a hand on the pillar by Loki’s head; Loki wanted to nuzzle his massive bicep, or maybe bite it, for it was too inviting, inviting and terrifying, but he knew he must restrain himself if he were to get his way. Thor brushed his scratchy beard over the back of Loki’s neck, burying his face in Loki’s damp hair and planting kisses behind his ear. He wrapped his other hand around Loki’s timidly-crouched body to stroke up his hipbone. Loki had some semblance of autonomy now. Was he courageous enough to use it?

 

“You want what?” Thor breathed into his ear, covering him in goosebumps from the sensation and the tingle of rough-skinned fingertips over his inner thigh.

 

Loki was paralyzed by Thor’s question. Paralyzed, and ashamed of it, silver-tongue shriveled and cold, unable to ask for what he wanted. Thor’s fingers continued their slow trail towards his cock and he tensed up, destroyed, unable to talk, to move. And, more staggeringly, he found that he didn’t want to. He knew this was right, that Thor should always control him like this, be his body as well as his mind. He was a captive asking if he’d like to be set free, and he was answering…

 

“No,” Loki said, strong and full-throated despite his fear. He felt Thor’s cock twitch against him.

 

“No?” Thor asked, far too quietly.

 

“No.” It was the only word Loki had left. His defiance, the core of him. He could never be what was wanted. And that was exactly what made him Loki.

 

Thor stiffened back up, his cock pressing more sharply against Loki’s back, and stopped touching his leg, causing Loki to relax slightly from the relief. He let himself exhale, free from this terrible thing he had gotten himself into. He did not want this romance, this sweetness. With luck, his rebellion would put him back at Thor’s mercy. Maybe he would even get what he wanted, despite his inability to ask for it. A shiver ran over his skin as the touch of mist replaced where Thor’s hand had been.

 

Thor chuckled lightly and Loki let his mind wander to what he imagined might be the cause of Thor’s ceasing.  _ Loki doesn’t love me.  _ It was cruel of Loki to play this game with himself when he was already fearful that Thor might truly believe that. He knew that he was wrong, but then again, all he wanted was to be proved wrong. Overpowered. Outwitted. He wanted the proof.

 

And Thor could never let his brother’s wishes go unanswered. Loki felt a hand on his cock again, gripping him harder than if this move had been for pleasure alone.

 

“Is this what you wanted?”

 

“No.”

 

Thor spit into his hand and Loki heard the unmistakable wet sound from behind of Thor rubbing himself, readying himself. “No?” he asked, still deathly calm. He yanked Loki’s collar back roughly before he could reply, forcibly silencing any more of his dissent. “Brother, I don’t think you know what you want.”

 

Loki let out a small cough to show that he agreed.

 

“I think you want me to show you.”

 

Loki nodded his head slightly, unable to move far, but he knew that Thor would feel it with his hand still wrapped tight around the chain. He muttered the spell to lubricate himself and surrendered, head back, staring into the plinth still marked with their love as he waited. The rain started back up again, dripping into Loki’s eyes and down his long hair. 

 

Just as his mind was opening to accept with warmth the possibilities for himself and Thor, Loki’s body was still dehiscent and ready; although he was broken and new to the psychological aspect of all of this, to the physical he was primed and capable of what Thor would give him. There was no fingering, no preparing him, his hole was still relaxed and warm from Thor’s masterful working of it, so when Thor pressed his cock up against it, he could have slipped inside without warning. But instead, he waited. He gave Loki one more chance to say no. 

 

Loki didn’t dare. 

 

Thor pushed himself in, all the way at once, splitting Loki open and annihilating the rest of his half-formed thoughts, and he did not even try to contain his cry from the pain of it; the sound seemed to echo over the waves and reverberate back from the void, doubling his ecstasy and this was perfection, pain, balance; all he wanted or could ever require. Thor stopped his imposition when he was fully seated and pulled Loki’s chain tighter, cutting his air off again and he saw stars from it and from being filled so deeply. He slowly inched back out, and Loki thought his entire insides might be drawn out with Thor, for he felt them as one and the same now.

 

This was everything; Thor was his everything.

 

Thor’s cock left him entirely, making Loki’s own leak and twitch and his sore throat whimper at the emptiness, but it was only for a moment, and the second thrust was much faster, rougher, and even Thor could not remain quiet when he hit Loki’s end. He paused, then pulled out as hard as the incursion had been, and didn’t hesitate this time to continue, making Loki dizzy and aching to come from being used so ruthlessly.

 

“Thor… I’m…” Loki choked out when he felt himself growing close, and the words made Thor stiffen, pulling out entirely. 

 

“Like Hel you are,” he replied, voice low and husky through the pounding rain, and backed away as much as he could within the triangle of Loki’s legs and the metal bar, leaving him to suffer untouched. Loki could feel Thor’s eyes boring into his gaping asshole, watching him hungrily while he waited until he could have more. Thor was not satiated yet, and this  _ hurt _ , not quite like the hurt from before, but a hurt of shame that he could not be a better toy for Thor to use. 

 

Somehow, the humiliation brought him even closer. Loki was very confused, and he didn’t know what to feel, was he allowed release yet? He needed Thor to tell him when it was permissible. “Brother…”

 

A hard smack landed on the side of his ass, not with the paddle but with Thor’s bare hand, and Loki recoiled, trying to hold himself in from release. Didn’t Thor understand? This would surely make him come too, and Loki keened high, the unspoken question  _ why _ hidden within the sound. Nothing more came, though; he was untouched and was squeezing his eyes shut, trying to collapse into himself like a star moments before supernova, trying to hold it off as long as possible, but-

 

He felt a hand on his chin, lifting his head, and he opened his eyes instinctively. It wasn’t Thor’s cock in front of them, though, as Loki might’ve expected. Only those ice-blue eyes, wide-open and staring at him with a warmth Loki had so often feared he might never see again. He said nothing, but Loki understood. Thor didn’t want to leave. Thor never wanted to leave. Therein was his reasoning.  _ He _ was asking  _ Loki _ what was most permissible.

 

Thor needed this as much as Loki did. Perhaps he even needed it more. 

 

_ No, not more. The same. _

 

And then, Thor kissed him, and it was so much like the first time, shattering everything, stars, galaxies, existence, and Loki came without so much as another touch, cock releasing what proof of their bond that neither of them were willing to give up just yet, but it was too late; they were both at fault. It was stronger than before, stronger than Loki had ever felt despite the lack of friction, and his entire body seemed to be shaking with the force of it; if Thor’s mighty arms and the handcuffs had not been holding him in place, he would’ve collapsed into the black ground, melting into it, becoming one with the island itself and ceasing to exist in his defiled body.

 

He didn’t, though, because Thor had him. A short chuckle into his mouth was enough for Loki to understand that he had done nothing wrong, that Thor approved. And Loki’s heart shone, for that was all he could want for anymore.

 

“I love you.” Loki couldn’t tell whose voice the sentiment sounded through.

 

The ramifications hit him, and he tried not to hate what they meant, but... Spent as he was, satisfied as he was, Loki’s heart rate quickened again, worry seeping into his eyes as he considered this being the end for him. He knew it was stupid… that Thor wouldn’t stop loving him just because of a change of scenery… but Loki was not in his right mind now: he opened his eyes in panic and looked down at the come being swallowed up by the greedy pillar, taking what was rightfully his and Thor’s for itself.

 

If Thor could just undo the handcuffs… he could lean down, lick it from the obsidian ground, take it back...

 

Loki looked back up at his brother, the fear apparent in his eyes now; he hoped Thor would know what he meant. 

 

Thor did not match his worry, though, but reached out to brush Loki’s soaked and disheveled hair back from his aching shoulders, comforting him. “It’s okay. It’ll be okay,” were his words, muttered over and over, until Loki’s anguish subsided. “I know. Brother, worry not. This isn’t the end. There is no end.”

 

Despite himself, Loki felt his mouth curve upwards. He trusted Thor, even when he thought himself incapable of the thing itself.

 

“Besides, I haven’t finished yet. Stop being so dramatic!” It wasn’t harsh, but warm and joking, his tone reassuring even to Loki’s reluctance. Thor kissed him once more and moved back around behind, and thrust inside him without warning, apparently unwilling to leave much time in between their releases. This time, he was not impassionately using Loki, but stroking up his back and down his chest, unable to take his hands or his eyes off his broken brother, who was nearing overstimulation with his cock hanging limply, wanting to rise again but unable to so shortly after his own release. 

 

He wouldn’t need to wait long, however, for Thor’s movements became sputtered and strained, his grunts echoing in Loki’s ears bringing him as much pleasure as his cock ever had. This was right, a right beyond all rights, being used by Thor in such a way without expecting anything in return; he was a vessel for Thor’s joy and his pain and he wanted all of it, more of it, too much of it…

 

Thunder thudded loud in Loki’s ears as Thor pulled out one last time, ripping Loki open as he came between his legs, directly into the drain, no longer afraid of the future, no longer anxious for what was to come after their time on the island was spent. Loki could never hope to be that courageous nor that unafraid, but maybe after enough time with Thor… maybe he could grasp some of it…

 

And now, he decided he would force himself to try; he looked down, watching the spell break as Thor clutched an arm around Loki’s middle, heaving and crying and laughing, as broken as Loki felt but safe in the knowledge that together, they could achieve some measure of wholeness. The whiteness disappeared quickly, too quickly aided by the pouring rain, leaving behind the shiny black of the ground and Loki exhaled deeply, for it was over. 

 

_ No… _

 

Quick as lightning, the plinth transformed, white runes transforming to silver, then blue, then so bright that Loki could not bear to look at them, and Thor was stiffening behind him, his touch on Loki turning electric. Pain started spreading across Loki’s skin where Thor would not let him go, and with a crash, a bolt of lightning hit the pillar in front of him, traveling across Loki’s body into Thor. 

 

It was too much, and Loki was gone.

  
  



	7. Chapter 7

The first thing Loki saw was not Thor, but the stars, bare and no longer obscured by the mist. It was nighttime now, and the rain had stopped; he must’ve been out for hours on account of his dry hair. His body didn’t hurt nearly as much as it probably should have, but he still sat up slowly, rubbing his temples as he tried to make sense of what had happened.

 

The crystal plinth was gone, or rather shattered into a million pieces spread over the island by the force of Thor’s lightning and the spell breaking. The shards shone every color in the starlight, dizzying Loki even more. They were dazzling, but Loki only wished to see Thor; where was he? Loki rose to his feet, but staggered slightly. His legs seemed as weak as a baby deer’s, his thoughts still unable to progress beyond half-formed.

 

“Loki!” a relieved voice called from behind, and Loki turned around slower than he would’ve liked to, not wishing to return to the ground once more. No longer concealed by the heavy fog, he could almost see the crooked mountains of Asgard from here, and Thor hiking up the steep side of the island towards him, clothed again and looking strong and good-spirited. He rushed to embrace his brother in a tight hug, crystal crunching beneath his feet.

 

“How’re you feeling?”

 

The feeling of Thor’s arms around him made Loki feel immediately better. “Mm… fine, I think. Disoriented. Alive.”

 

Thor pulled back to look at him and smiled. “You took quite the hit.”

 

Loki raised an eyebrow; he felt like himself again. “From you.”

 

Thor laughed. “I didn’t know that would happen!”

 

Loki’s eyebrows climbed even higher up his forehead. He wasn’t sure exactly why the pillar shattered the way it did, but had a feeling it had something to do with their unorthodox method of filling it. If it had been Thor’s fault, though, Loki found himself of little mind. It had been a fitting end to their toil. “Why didn’t you wake me, after?”

 

“I wanted to pack without you distracting me,” Thor replied matter-of-factly.

 

Loki wasn’t expecting that. He pressed his lips together.  _ Fair. _

 

Thor looked at them hungrily, and claimed them without warning, opening them back up and kissing Loki deeply, quieting his thoughts, pressing their bodies together again. Loki welcomed the taste but winced slightly; maybe he hurt more than he’d thought upon waking. Thor didn’t stop, though; he ran his tongue over Loki’s lower lip and his fingers up his naked back, tracing patterns into him. Loki had barely the strength to kiss him back, or to keep standing up, nearly melting in Thor’s powerful embrace. 

 

Something occurred to Loki, though… “Wait. You left me?”

 

“After checking that you were fine, yes. Is that… a problem?”

 

Though Thor had stepped back, Loki felt as warm as if he were still in his embrace. His words had been simple, but Loki heard more than their surface meaning. Proof that Thor didn’t want to leave him. Proof that Thor wanted to do whatever Loki needed him to do.

 

“No, but I thought… Mother’s spell must’ve broken, too. We could barely be a few yards away from each other before.”

 

Thor looked at him, lost in thought. “You don’t think this means…”

 

“That she knows? I doubt it.” Loki left unsaid the rest of his thoughts: that by loving each other in this way, they had broken their brotherly bond, taken it instead to a place Frigga never would’ve wanted to plan for. 

 

Or… Maybe she had. Maybe she knew that if their love extended to this, the spell would no longer be necessary. 

 

Loki smiled suddenly, realizing that he didn’t care which it was. Frigga’s spell may have broken, but Thor’s had been fulfilled. He leaned forward to kiss Thor again, who eagerly moved to kiss him back, but Loki was excited again, full of energy and joy and elation. Maybe even… mischief. More than anything, he was overwhelmed with a feeling of a new beginning. Things had changed, and it was time for Loki to catch up. He had plenty to do in thinking of all the ways in which they could hide their relationship… or not hide it… he would have fun with that. 

 

“Let’s go,” he whispered onto Thor’s lips, slipping their fingers betwixt one another. In his other hand, he conjured the well-worn handcuffs and shook them, newfound vigor like lightning in his veins, the sound of metal on metal like chiming bells. 

 

Thor looked down at them, then back at Loki, confused.

 

Loki’s smile turned impish. “To play the part.”

 

“But you’re not a prisoner, anymore. You don’t want them to think we were unsuccessful!”

 

“Then we’ll take them off when we get home.”

 

Thor laughed, and clasped them around Loki’s willing wrists, then trailed a hand down the side of his bare ass. “Are you going home like that?”

 

“You think Odin and Frigga would notice?” Loki said with the faux-innocence he’d need to get used to using.

 

Thor laughed, but didn’t answer, so Loki clothed himself again in warm, deep green fabrics that would do little to protect against the cold water. He knew he would miss the chill of the mist on his bare skin, but covering up would be necessary once again. Of course, if he were to slip up, say something he shouldn’t, or look a little too pleased by Thor’s presence, Thor would have to punish him for it. For now, though, this would do.

 

“Ready?”

 

Loki looked around at the island. It was rife with their story; the shattered plinth, the velvet chaise (which seemed to have broken a leg at some point), the pitted black stone. The remnants of their commingled love seemed to have disappeared; that was okay. That alone could still be their secret. Thor had packed up the things they would need, but Loki decided he didn’t want to magic away the rest of it. Leave it for someone, the gods, maybe, to find and wonder about. 

 

“I’m ready.”

 

Thor lead him down the treacherous hillside to the tiny boat, still swaying languidly in the dark, choppy water. His footing was true, but Loki pretended to slip a few times anyway, just for the satisfaction of making Thor catch him when his cuffed hands meant he couldn’t catch himself. Obviously, Thor saw through his ruse, but the way he humored his brother told Loki that he didn’t mind one bit. At least he hadn’t made Thor carry him the entire way like a bride over the threshold.

 

They reached the small section of shore where the boat was moored as a wave crashed over the cliff to Loki’s right, drenching him in sea spray. He laughed, and Thor laughed with him, and they stepped into the boat together, facing each other. Thor untied them, and took the oars once again, rowing back to Asgard with lazy strokes. 

 

Loki didn’t lay back this time, but stared at Thor, entwining their legs together. Thor narrowed his eyes.

 

“Did I say you could do that?”

 

Loki smiled, accosted. “I’m not hurting anyone!”

 

He saw Thor’s mouth waver as he tried not to smile. “Doesn’t matter. You need practice. Practice listening.”

 

Loki shut his lips tight and stopped rubbing his legs on Thor’s, showing him just how well he could listen, and Thor’s composure slipped. He snorted. “Alright. You have permission.”

 

“Thanks,” Loki purred, and reached a foot up to stroke the inside of Thor’s leg, nearer and nearer to his cock. Thor let him this time.

 

It was fun, yes, to watch Thor’s muscles bulge as he rowed and tease him, but Loki needed one last answer. His smile slipped slightly as Asgard drew nearer. “Thor, can I ask you something?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“I know we had hinted at it before, but I need confirmation. That this isn’t over.”

 

Thor stopped rowing and the boat coasted smoothly over the calm water. “Loki, I told you already. Isn’t it obvious?”

 

Loki wanted to be concerned, but it was difficult when Thor was looking at him like he was missing out on some great joke. “As I evidently spent most of our lives misreading you, I think it’s best if you just tell me.”

 

“We did this to help you, to heal you. That much is completely true. But it was never only about that! This was what I wished for, what I wanted all along - you, and a chance to love you openly. I’ve done that. I could never stop unless you asked me to.” He paused, and set the oars across the side of the boat, taking Loki’s hands in his own. “Do you want to stop?”

 

Loki bit his lip. Thor was asking him so much more than merely if he wanted their relationship to continue like this: this was a question of identity, of choices and animus, of what kind of person he wanted to be. Did he want  _ this _ to be his evil.

 

Just as he thought it, though, he felt a strong presence upon his selfish thoughts. This was not only his evil, but Thor’s, too. A decision for both of them. And, apparently, Thor had already agreed to his part of it.

 

Never again would Loki suffer the loneliness of that selfishness. The dark pathways he wandered toward wouldn’t go away, but he would have a guide, a hand to lead him, to show him a better route. A different sort of darkness. One more beautiful; no less dangerous, but bearing something that could anchor him. Even love could coexist with evil. Perhaps they were even one in the same. Loki’s problem had not been that he contained only one of them, but that he ever tried to draw a line between them in the first place. He squeezed Thor’s hands harder. Loki would find a way to be evil regardless. This was the way that would bring him the most happiness. “Never.”

 

Loki didn’t know whether it was a lie; he didn’t know whether he could promise such a certain thing. He knew Thor knew the same. He hoped that neither of them would ever find out which it was. 

 

Thor’s face split into a smile. “I’d kiss you, but I think we’d capsize.”

 

“You’ll have plenty of chances to once we’re not in danger of being swallowed by sea-worms.”

 

They laughed, and Thor resumed rowing. Loki could see the muddy shore clearly now. It looked even more distasteful now with the silhouette of his beautiful brother in the foreground. Loki sighed. “You know Heimdall can probably see us now.”

 

“Then he knows we were successful!”

 

“How much do you think he’ll tell our parents?”

 

“Enough.”

 

“You know I could transport us virtually anywhere.”

 

“I know. Where to?”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! This fic gave me _a lot_ of feelings and also a lot of frustration and doubts, so I couldn't be happier that it's out into the world now. I hope y'all enjoyed reading it! As always, I'm on tumblr as [@thorjorts](https://thorjorts.tumblr.com) :)


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